


Elsewhere

by Kriegsandharris



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 16:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 48,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6965560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kriegsandharris/pseuds/Kriegsandharris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can 21 year-old Ali let go of the only life she has ever known and embrace a new one? Is it possible that a life lived in reverse is no different than a life lived forward? Is it possible to keep living when you're already dead?</p><p>After Ali and Ashlyn both die young, they must find a way to make life after death the best it can be through soccer, dogs, and love. </p><p>Based on the novel "Elsewhere" by Gabrielle Zevin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Life really fucking sucks. How does life choose who gets to stay and who goes, and when and where and why? Does life just throw a random dart at a board, or is there a greater reason behind all of it? Is life even real? All Kyle knew was that life was an absolute bitch.

“Kyle, she isn’t doing well,” mom tells him a week before the end. He is too far out of this world to even comprehend what she is telling him, let alone recognize the sound of his own sister’s name. Between the alcohol, and the cocaine, and the heroin, sometimes he can barely remember his own name.

“Kyle, it isn’t looking good,” she tells him three days before the end. “You should really try to get here.” At that point, there is a two way ticket already paid, and he figures that a change in scenery (especially the underground scenery) might be nice. So he gets out on the first flight to Pennsylvania and lands, not quite remembering why he had even taken a flight in the first place. 

Life had been good before Dad left. Kyle had always tried his best to protect his bright eyed little sister, who was the absolute epitome of innocence. They were best friends. People often mistook them for twins, their dark hair and eyes mysteriously identical. They were only a little more than a year apart, and were the human equivalent of yin and yang. But after his first drink the night dad left, after he took that long, first swig of alcohol, his world became blurry. Literally. 

So here he is, standing over his dead sister’s body as tubes are removed from all over. Monitors are turned off, and suddenly, the room is much quieter than it originally was. Mom and dad cry. He isn’t sure if it is real or a hallucination, and quite honestly, he goes in and out of recognizing the lifeless form in front of him. 

He looks around the room, trying desperately to remember where he is. The room is small, and filled with wires and screens. There are doctors and nurses and PAs whizzing around, and for a second, Kyle wonders if he is hallucinating being in the middle of a television drama. There is a person in the bed—a dead person, he realizes for a second time. He isn’t sure who it is, even though he swears he knew who it was a minute ago. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you here soon enough, I’m so sorry,” dad says as he grips Kyle for dear life. But all he can manage to do is stare as his mom strokes her lifeless girl’s hair and holds her hand as the doctor calls an official time of death. 

“Time of death, 15:01, cause of death, multiple pulmonary embolisms.”

He isn’t sure what the big words mean, but he knows that something isn’t right when the white sheet covering the bed is pulled over the dark haired girl. 

His sister, he suddenly realizes.

“No,” he says, his hand tightly gripping the arm of the nurse who is tying an identification band around his sister's hand. The nurse tries desperately to get him off of her. The sheet covering his sister is shifted, and he catches a glimpse of her face. Suddenly, he wishes he could see those big brown eyes open just one more time. “GET OUT! I CAN TAKE CARE OF HER! GET OUT!” he screams as he is escorted out of the room by two large men. Tears stream down his face as he loses sight of his precious sister.

“Ali,  _ ALI _ !”


	2. At Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali finds herself at sea and makes a new friend.

Alexandra Krieger wakes in a strange bed in a strange room with the strange feeling that the sheets are indeed trying to strangle her. 

Ali (who is Alex to her family; Alexandra to her brother; and simply Ali to the rest of the world) violently sits up in the bed, managing to hit her head on an upper bunk that she only then becomes aware of. From above, she can hear a voice that she doesn’t recognize. “What the hell?”

Ali swings her legs around, feeling slightly unstable as she stands up from the bed in order to peer into the top bunk. There is a girl that appears slightly younger than her, late high school aged maybe. Her brown hair is curly but neat, tied up in a white ribbon that matches the white nightgown she is wearing. She looks a bit like a queen, Ali thinks.

“Sorry to wake you,” Ali apologizes, “but do you have any idea where we are? I just woke up and I swear I’ve never seen this place before.” 

The younger girl yawns and stretches, and her eyes open to reveal their piercing blue color. She glances around the room, and then at Ali, and then back at a window before reaching up to touch her curls. “We’re on a boat.”  
“What do you mean ‘on a boat’?”

“Just look out the window, we’re surrounded by water,” she replies simply before closing her eyes again and wrapping herself in the bright white blanket. “You probably could have even figured that out without waking me.”

“Sorry,” Ali whispers again before sitting back down on her bed. 

She looks out the porthole that is directly across from her bed only to see hundreds of miles of bright blue water reflecting the early-morning sunrise. When she really focuses, she can make out a small boardwalk. On the boardwalk, she can see her parents and brother. God, she hadn’t seen her brother in months, maybe even a year. Kyle appears to be crying, but before she can get a better look, the fog swallows them completely. 

Ali lies back down in the bed. Even though she feels incredibly awake, she knows for a fact that she is dreaming for several reasons: first, there is no way she could be on a boat when she is supposed to be getting surgery tomorrow; second, if this is a vacation, her parents and maybe even Kyle would be with her in the cabin; and third, only in a dream is there anyway she would be able to see Kyle standing with her parents. Just as she tries to come up with a fourth reason she is dreaming, she decides to get out of bed.  _ What a waste it would to spend a dream sleeping _ she thinks to herself before tiptoeing across the room.

She walks towards the bureau, quickly noticing that all of the furniture is bolted to the floor; a tell-tale sign that they are indeed at sea. While she doesn’t find the room completely unpleasant, Ali thinks that it feels a bit desolate and sad, almost as if thousands of people had passed through it and decided not to stay. 

Ali opens the bureau drawers to see if there are any clues as to what kind of boat her dream is taking place on. They are empty. Although she tries to be extremely quiet out of courtesy for the other sleeping people in her cabin, she loses her grip on the last drawer and it slams shut. This has the unfortunate effect of waking the curly-haired girl again. 

“Hey, maybe you should get back in bed. The water is a little choppy and people are trying to sleep,” the girl gently says to Ali. 

“Sorry, I was just checking the drawers. In case you were curious, they were empty,” Ali says as she tiptoes back to her bunk. “I like your hair by the way.” 

The nameless girl reaches back to her curls before smiling. “Thanks.”

“What’s your name?” Ali asks. 

“Lauren Cheney, but sometimes people just call me Cheney.”

“I’m Ali.”

“Cool, nice to meet you,” she says, extending her hand to the bottom bunk. Ali takes it and firmly shakes it before asking another question.

“How old are you?”

“I just turned 18 in September,” she says. “What about you?”

“I turned 21 in July.”

“Wow, legal and everything. I mean, I’m legal but you’re  _ legal _ legal. You think they have any alcohol on this boat?”

Ali laughs at the younger girl, thinking that even in this dream, alcohol might just be the very thing she needs. Ali can vaguely remember bright lights, and the sound of her family’s voices the night before. She remembers the surgeon coming in to talk to her about the operation she was set to have the next day. She even remember hearing Kyle’s voice. No, that was impossible. Kyle was off in California doing his own thing.  _ Alcohol sounds great _ she thinks to herself. 

“Want to go check on that alcohol?” Ali asks Lauren. 

“Why not, we’re up now.” Lauren carefully climbs down from her bunk before following Ali to the door. “I wonder what country we’re in, it might even be legal for me to drink to help forget about this bitch,” Lauren says, pulling her gown down just enough to reveal a large incision running down her chest. 

Although the wound is thin, Ali can tell it must have been the result of a pretty serious cut. 

“God, Lauren, that must hurt like hell.”

“I mean, it did at first. It hurt like absolute shit. But it doesn’t feel that bad anymore,” Lauren says, letting go of her gown. “I think it might actually be healing.”   


“How exactly did you get that?”

Lauren looks confused and bites her lip as her eyes visibly search for an answer. She shrugs her shoulders. “Don’t remember, it might have happened a long time ago, but maybe it could have been yesterday too. You know what I mean?”

Ali nods. Although Lauren isn’t making any sense, she sees no point in arguing with a person in a dream. 

“We should go,” says Ali. 

On the way out, Lauren makes a cursory glance at herself in the large mirror hanging opposite the bunk beds. “Do you think it matters that we’re both wearing nightgowns?”

Ali looks at Lauren’s white nightgown, before realizing that she herself is wearing an identical one.

“Why would it matter?” Ali asks. “Besides, what else do you wear while you’re dreaming?” Ali places her hand on the doorknob. Someone somewhere once told Ali that she must never, under any sort of circumstances, open a door in a dream. But since Ali can’t remember who the person was or why all doors must remain closed, she decides to ignore the advice. 

Ali and Lauren find themselves in a hallway with hundreds of doors that look identical to the one they just closed.

"How are we going to find it again?” Lauren asks.    


“I don’t think we’ll have to,” Ali answers. “We’ll probably wake up before then, don’t you think?” she says, throwing her long brown locks over one shoulder. 

“Well, just in case, our room number is 110012,” Lauren says.

Ali points to a hand-painted sign at the end of the hallway.

ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS OF THE SS NILE! THE DINING HALL IS UP THREE FLIGHTS ON THE LIDO DECK.

“Hungry?” Lauren asks. 

“Starved. And really wanting some alcohol.” Ali is somewhat surprised by her answer. She can’t recall ever being hungry before. And she especially can’t recall ever being so disturbed by a dream that she wants alcohol. 

One thing that struck Ali as being odd in the dining hall is the people. Nearly everyone is old. A few people are her parent’s age, but most appear to be in their seventies and eighties. Heads filled with grey and sagging, wrinkled skin appear to be the norm. It is by far the largest gathering of old people that Ali has ever seen in one place, even counting the visits with her grandparents in Virginia Beach growing up. Ali scans the dining room before turning to Lauren. “Are we in the wrong place?”   


Lauren shrugs. “I don’t know, but heads up,” she says, nodding her head towards three women walking towards them. 

The three women remind Ali of her grandmother and the ladies who she had played bingo with. She had passed away when Ali was just 5, but the vivid memories of building sandcastles on the beach just past her house had managed to stick with her through the years. “Hello sweethearts,” says the middle lady who has a New York accent. “I’m Mary, and this is Peggy, and this is May.”   


Mary glances between the two of them before making a remark. “Good lord, would you look at how young these two are?”

Ali politely smiles but takes a step back so as to discourage further conversation. This dream was getting weird, and she was willing herself to wake up. 

“How old are you?” Mary asks, squinting her eyes. “Fifteen maybe?”

“Twenty-one, actually,” Ali corrects her. “People always say I have a baby-face.”

Then, Peggy pipes up. “What happened to you girls?” Peggy is smaller than the other two women, and has a small voice to match her stature. 

“What do you mean ‘happened’?” Ali asks in an indignant voice before Lauren answers.    


“I had an open heart surgery ma’am.”

Ali turns to Lauren. “I thought you said you didn’t remember how you got that cut.”   


Lauren turns to her apologetically. “I just remembered now.”    


“Wow! That sounds rough,” Mary says, a bit too bluntly for Ali’s liking.    


" It’s not really special. It happens to a lot of kids,” Lauren says. 

“Maybe you should go to the healing center!” Mary excitedly suggests. “May’s already been twice, it healed her up real good.”

Lauren just shakes her head. “I think it’s healing just fine on its own, but maybe if it gets any worse.”

Ali is simply confused by the whole interaction. She stays quiet, allowing Lauren to do all of the talking.  _ Dammit, wake up Ali!  _ she thinks to herself, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her fists. “You okay, honey?” Mary asks, taking one of Ali’s hands in her own as she looks at her with worry. 

“Yeah, I’m okay, just trying to wake up is all,” Ali says with a polite smile as she reopens her eyes. 

The women simply laugh. “You’re already awake honey! You girls should go get something to eat. You’ve gotta get here early to get the good stuff.”

For breakfast, Ali has her usual toast and eggs, figuring that it couldn’t hurt to stick with what was normal as long as she was stuck in this dream. Lauren has sushi, truffles, and baked beans. Ali eyes Lauren’s selections with a curiosity in her eye. “That’s certainly an interesting combination,” Ali says. 

“Yeah, you usually don’t get to eat this stuff on a soccer diet, so I’m planning on eating everything before we get there.”

Ali pauses. “Lauren,” she asks casually, “where do you think ‘there’ is?” 

Lauren considers Ali’s question for a moment before answering. “We’re on a boat, and boats surely have to be going somewhere.” 

Ali dismisses the question, settling for Lauren’s half-hearted answer. She stares out the window. The fog has lifted, and the water is so clear that she swears it looks like glass. Ali wonders where the ship is going and if she will finally be able to wake up before it arrives at its destination, wherever that might be. Ali’s thoughts are disrupted by a sharp voice. 

“You mind?” she asks with almost an authority. She is polite, but firm. “You guys seem like the only people under eighty in this place.”

“Of course not, it’s nice to have some company,” Ali says with a slight laugh as she scoots over on the booth. She sure was making a lot of friends in this dream.    


“I’m Hope,” the girl says plainly as she sets down her plate. Her eyes are sharp and blue, and her hair is a natural blonde color. She was older than Ali and Lauren, but not by much. 

“I’m Ali. And this is Lauren,” Ali says as Lauren finishes a bite of her food. “Nice to meet you—damn it feels weird saying that in a dream.”

“A dream, huh?” Hope almost scoffs. 

Lauren leans over to whisper to Hope. “She doesn’t know yet. I only just figured it out myself.” 

“Interesting,” Hope says. “Where do you think you are Ali?”

Ali looks bewildered as she looks between Lauren and Hope. Both sets of their blue eyes feel like they are piercing into her, and she feels like she can’t breathe. 

“I’m—it’s a dream,” Ali says, stammering over her words. 

Hope and Lauren look at each other before sighing, accepting the fact that Ali was still clueless. 

“So how did you end up here?” Lauren asks Hope, as if it’s a casual topic. 

“A car ran me over,” Hope says bluntly. “A hit and run, actually. My dad is homeless, and I was walking down the street to see him, and-” Hope finishes her sentence by smashing her hands together, a rough analogy of the car that had hit her and then kept speeding down the road. “What about you?”   


“A heart surgery- a failed one it seems,” Lauren says, lowering her gown to show Hope the wound.   


“Oh, nice,” Hope says with a smirk. “Well at least the two of us have some good stories. I’m assuming Ali’s wasn’t too traumatizing considering she doesn’t know what’s going on.”   


Ali is still genuinely confused by the dream. Why are these people telling these crazy stories, and more importantly, why is everyone so old? Her head is filled with crazy theories of what this dream can possibly signify. She even keeps a dream journal, recording her dreams so that she can go back and analyze them. And this one, she thinks, will make for an extremely fun analysis. 

Ali’s eyes go blank as she tries to concentrate on her thoughts. _ This is a dream _ , she thinks,  _ and at any moment my alarm clock will go off and force me out of it. Wake up, wake up, wake up _ she wills herself. Ali pinches herself on the arm as hard as she can. “Ow,” she says. She slaps herself across the face. Nothing. And then she slaps herself again. Still nothing. She closes her eyes as tightly as she can and then snaps them open again, hoping to find herself back in her own bed in her dorm on the Penn State Campus, or back in her boyfriend Brent’s arms. 

Ali starts to panic. Tears form in her eyes; she furiously brushes them away with her hand. 

_ I am twenty-one years old. A full fledged adult—old enough to drink. Old enough to make real decisions. I am far too old to be having nightmares. _

She screws her eyes shut once more and screams, “TIFF, TIFF! I AM HAVING A NIGHTMARE, WAKE ME UP!” Ali waits for her roommate to wake her up. 

Any moment. 

Any moment, Tiffany should be over her, laughing at the fact that she is having a nightmare at the ripe age of 21.

Any moment. 

Ali opens one eye. She is still on the ship’s main deck, where many of the old people have begun to stare at her. 

“Young lady,” says an old man, covered in wrinkles, looking like he could be one of her history professors. “You are being very disruptive.”

Ali sits down by the railing and buries her head in her hands. She takes a deep breath and tells herself to calm down. She decides that the best strategy will be to try to remember as many details of the dream as possible so that she can get a clear analysis of what this mess could possibly mean in the morning when she wakes up. 

But how did the dream even start? Ali racks her brain. It is odd, being in the position of trying to recall a dream that is still ongoing. But, yes! Ali remembers now. 

The dream began when she was back with Brent in the dorm.  _ Or was that real life? _ Ali spends a minute trying to figure it out before settling on the dream starting there. She felt light, like she was above the effects of gravity. Brent was visiting because she had broken her foot and was still having difficulty getting around. “Your pulse is high, like really high,” he had said before his worries got the best of him and he brought her to the medical center. 

Then it was doctors, and bright lights, and big words, and the sound of her family’s voices. She even remembers Kyle’s voice being there.  _ Surely _ , she thinks,  _ the dream at the very least started there _ . There was no possible way Kyle was there in real life. 

Ali sighs. Looking at it objectively, she supposes she died in the dream. Ali wonders what it means when you die in your dreams, and she resolves to think about it some more in the morning. All at once, she wonders if going to sleep again is the answer. Maybe if she can manage to fall asleep, the next time she wakes up, everything will be back to normal. She feels grateful to Lauren for making her memorize their cabin number. Back in the cabin, Ali slips into the same bed, in the same position, silently praying that she can put an end to this nightmare of a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated! :) I already have over half of this written, so updates should be pretty consistent.


	3. A Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali watches Earth from beyond, and finally makes a realization.

Night after night, Ali goes to sleep, but she never wakes up in Penn State; time passes, but she doesn’t know how much, which becomes increasingly frustrating to her. Despite a thorough search of the boat, neither she nor Lauren can unearth a single calendar, television, telephone, computer, or even radio. The only thing Ali knows for sure is that this is the longest she had ever slept. 

Ali is lying in her bed, staring at the upper bunk, when she notices the sound of Lauren sobbing. Ugly sobbing. 

“Lauren,” Ali asks, craning her neck upward, “are you alright?”

Lauren’s crying only intensifies. Finally she is able to speak. “I miss my family, and my boyfriend.”

Ali hands Lauren a tissue. Although the Nile lacks modern electronic devices, tissue abounds. “What is your boyfriend’s name?” Ali asks, trying desperately to distract Lauren. 

“Jrue,” she says. “God I miss him. Do you have a guy, Ali?”   


“Yeah,” Ali says with a sigh. “Brent. He’s amazing. I think he saved my life, actually.”   


Lauren looks at Ali with sympathy, not wanting to ruin the end of her romantic story for her. 

“That’s nice, Ali,” Lauren says, grabbing Ali’s hand as she wipes the last of her tears from her cheek. 

“Yeah, I miss,” him Ali says, thinking of his big brown eyes that always seemed to be filled with love at the sight of her. 

Ali gets out of bed and looks at herself in the mirror across from the bed. She looks the same mostly; her eyes are still a deep chocolate brown, and her hair is still long and brown, even though she wishes she could find a ponytail holder so she could put it up in a bun. She is a little bit skinnier than she remembers herself being, and a bit paler. And as she shifts in front of the mirror, she feels something tugging on the inside of her thigh. She lifts her gown to find a piece of plastic sticking out of her inner thigh. “Lauren,” she says, her voice a little bit shaky. “What’s this?” 

Lauren shrugs her shoulder as she looks over towards Ali’s leg. In one swift motion, Ali removes the long plastic tube that stretched from her groin to her chest. There was no blood, and it was completely painless to take out. Ali marvels at the fact that she hadn’t noticed it before. “It’s odd, isn’t it,” she asks, “that you should have that huge cut on your chest, and I have this running through my body, and yet we’re both fine? I mean, that didn’t hurt at all pulling that out.”

“You don’t remember getting that put in?”

Ali thinks for a moment. “In the dream,” she begins and then stops. “I think, I think I was in the hospital.”   


Suddenly Ali needs to sit down. She feels this overwhelming feeling of shock.

“Lauren, I want to know how you got that cut.”   


“It’s like I told you, I had open heart surgery.” 

“Yes, but why did you need it? What happened, like specifically, I mean.”   


“I passed out during a soccer game, and the next thing I knew I was at the hospital in critical condition. I’ve always had a heart problem, but I guess it finally had got the best of me.”

Ali nods. “Are you sure you aren’t dreaming all of this?”   


"I know that’s your opinion of the matter, but I know I’m not dreaming. Dreaming feels fake, and this doesn’t feel fake.”   


“But it doesn’t seem possible, does it? You having heart surgery and me being in the hospital, and both of us walking and perfectly fine, as if nothing happened.”

Lauren shakes her head, but chooses not to speak, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news. 

“And I mean, Hope got hit by a car, and she’s up and walking around just fine! There’s absolutely no way that this isn’t a dream.”

Before Lauren has a chance to respond, someone pushes a large envelope under the cabin door. Grateful for the distraction, Lauren tells Ali to go grab it. Ali retrieves the envelope. It is addressed in deep blue ink: Passenger Alexandra B. Krieger, Formerly of Alexandria, Virginia, in the United States of America. Currently of the SS Nile, Cabin 110012, Bottom Bunk.

Ali opens the door. She looks up and down the hallway, but no one is there.    


Returning to the bottom bunk, Ali looks in the envelope. Inside, she finds a plain card with a vellum overlay and an odd hexagonal coin with a round hole in the center. The coin reminds Ali of the metro tokens her family would use on trips to D.C., but it is embossed with the words  _ ONE ETERNIM _ on the front and  _ OFFICIAL CURRENCY OF ELSEWHERE _ on the back. The card appears to be an invitation, but the occasion isn’t specified. 

_ Dear Passenger Krieger, Your presence is requested: Observation Deck, Binoculars #220, Today, NOW! _

“Who the hell came up with the idea of sending an invitation to something ‘now’? You can’t really help but be late, can you?” Ali says as she shows the invitation to Lauren. 

“I mean, really, you can’t help but be on time, with ‘now’ being a relative term and everything,” Lauren says snarkily back to Ali. 

Ali rolls her eyes at her friend. “Do you want to come?”   


“I’ve already been. It’s probably best you go alone,” Lauren says, already having somewhat of a clue of what was going to happen at the binoculars for Ali. “Have fun!”

Ali races up the many flights of stairs between her cabin and the observation deck. The Observation Deck consists of a long row of binoculars, the kind that look like stick-figures without arms. Each pair is coupled with a small stool, and the people sitting atop the stools have very much varied reactions. Some people are laughing, some are crying. Some are laughing and crying simultaneously. Some simply stare straight ahead. 

The binoculars are labeled sequentially, and Ali takes a seat at #223 once she reaches it. She sighs, and then takes out the strange coin from her pocket to place it in the binoculars. When she puts her eyes up to the viewfinder, she sees what she can only describe as a 3-D movie playing, set in the church she grew up in as a kid in Virginia Beach—the same church where her Grandma’s funeral was. 

Everyone is dressed in black. The back pews are filled with kids she went to high-school with. Old teammates, and lab-partners, and friends sit there, their eyes full of tears and fixed straight ahead to where her mom is speaking on the altar. The front pews are filled with family that she didn’t really know—the people that she only saw at Christmas and Thanksgiving and occasionally Easter. It is in these pews that she also finds her teammates, all dressed in black with “22” written on the backs of their hands. _How cliche_ , Ali thinks. _Dead teammate?_ _Great, let’s glorify the hell out of her number._ And then her eyes land on Kyle. Her Kyle. His hair is freshly cut, and his face freshly shaved. As much as she hated to admit it, it was the best she had seen him look in a long, long time. His face was blank and tear-stained though, and he seemed paler than she remembered him. Her dad sat next to him, his face expressionless as he stared at the lifeless body of his dead daughter in front of him.

Oh that box. 

In it was Ali’s body, dressed in a simple white dress. As the camera zooms in, Ali can see that the body barely resembles her. Her hair is parted on the wrong side, and her skin is ghostly pale. Her makeup is nothing like how she normally does it.  _ Whoever did my mascara should be shot _ she thinks to herself as she takes a closer look at the inside of the box. In it are letters from her teammates, an old ball that she used to play with when her brother was still in the picture, and a few of her favorite childhood stuffed animals. 

“Alexandra was the best daughter I could have asked for,” her mom said, wiping a tear from under her eye as she spoke to the small crowd gathered at the church. “She was an angel, an absolute angel.”  _ You didn’t think so when you told me soccer was ruining our family _ Ali thinks to herself as she continues to listen. “I hope that her death can serve as a reminder to medical professionals to be more careful of blood clots and pulmonary embolisms, no one—sorry,” she says, taking a moment to clear the tears from her eyes. She takes a deep breath before continuing. “No one deserves to see their child die like that.” Ali searches for Brent as the procession wanders past the casket, paying their respects. He is absolutely nowhere to be found.

Ali decides that she has seen enough, and gets up from her stool before her time is up. 

“ _ I am dead _ ,” Ali finally says out loud.  _ Dead _ . It is a strange thing being dead, she thinks, because her body feels the same as it always has. It feels like it is ready to go out on the pitch and kick some ass. 

As Ali walks down the long row of binoculars, she spots Hope. “So you finally figured it out, huh?” Hope says as she turns around from her own stool.   
“What, that this isn’t a dream or the fact that I’m _dead_?” 

Hope laughs. “Both, I guess. So how much bullshit was your funeral filled with? Mine was filled with a lot of helpful traffic safety information, which I’m sure will be helpful as fuck wherever we’re going. I mean, that is if we can’t just drive through all the ghosts whizzing around.” 

Ali’s eyes go wide in fear. “Do you think we’re going to turn into-”   


“I’m  _ KIDDING _ Al,” Hope says, scoffing. There was something comforting about Hope calling her Al—only her close teammates ever did that. 

Ali breathes a sigh of relief. “It’s not funny.” 

Hope smiles before placing an arm around Ali. “Do you think we’ll be here forever?” Ali asks.    


“Well, unless this really is all a dream, or my mind's playing tricks on me, I think I see a shoreline in the distance. So I suppose not.”   


Ali looks over the binoculars, and in the distance, she can see what appears to be land. She supposes that if you have to be dead, it is better to be somewhere than nowhere at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated :)


	4. Welcome to Elsewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali is introduced to Elsewhere, and sees a friendly face.

“Ali, we’re here!” Lauren is looking out the upper porthole when Ali enters the cabin. She jumps down from the top dunk and throws her muscular arms around Ali, spinning her about the cabin under both of the girls are out of breath. 

Ali sits down and gasps for air. “You realize we’re—I mean, how can you be so happy when we’re…”   


“Dead?” Lauren finishes for her, smirking a little bit. “Well I’m glad you finally figured that out.”

“I mean, I did just get back from my own funeral, but I think I was starting to figure it out anyway.”

Lauren nods and laughs a little bit. “You weren’t  _ at _ your own funeral, you were just  _ looking _ at your own funeral,” she clarifies. “My funeral was awful, thanks for asking. They straightened my hair, and my makeup was horrific.”

Ali laughs. “I know, right? I looked like an oversized, overly creepy children’s doll.” The laughs subside and both girls look out the porthole, which is pulling up to what appears to be a large dock. “Aren’t you sad at all?” Ali asks. 

“No point in being sad that I can see. I can’t change anything. And I’m completely tired of being in this little room.”   


An announcement comes over the ship’s PA system: “This is your captain speaking. I hope you’ve enjoyed your passage. On behalf of the crew of the SS Nile, welcome to Elsewhere. The local temperature is 67 degrees with partly sunny skies and a easterly breeze. The local time is 3:52 p.m. All passengers must now disembark. This is the last and only stop.”   


“Don’t you wonder what it’s like out there?” Ali asks.    


“The captain just said. It’s warm with a breeze.”   


“No, I mean everything else.”   


“I mean, it is what it is, right?” Lauren asks rhetorically. Lauren holds out her hand to help Ali off the bed. “You coming?”

Ali shakes her head. “The ship’s probably super crowded. I think I’ll just hang around for a little bit, just until the halls aren’t as busy,” Ali says, remember the disembarking on cruise vacations she had taken with her family when she was younger. Except, she had a feeling that this disembarkment would be very, very different. “You go on ahead, I kinda want to be by myself.”   


Lauren’s bright blue eyes meet Ali’s dark brown orbs. “Don’t you stay in here forever,” Lauren says seriously.    


“I won’t. I promise.”

Lauren nods. She is almost out the door when Ali calls out to her, “Why do you think they put us together anyway?”

“Beats me.” Lauren shrugs. “We were probably the only young girls who died because of a surgeon's fuck up that day.” Ali laughs at Lauren’s crude remark. “I guess that was the best they could do,” she finishes. Lauren pulls Ali into a hug. “It was really nice meeting you, hopefully there’s a soccer field around here so we can meet up and I can kick your ass on some 1v1.” 

“Not a chance,” Ali laughs as she pulls Lauren tighter. “I’ll see you around.” 

As Lauren closes the door, Ali has a slight impulse to call out and ask her to stay. Lauren is now her only friend, except for Hope, who truthfully still scares her. With Lauren gone, Ali feels more alone and wretched than she has felt before. 

Ali lies down on the bottom bunk, trying one final time to will herself awake. All around her, she can hear the sounds of people leaving their cabins and walking through the ship’s halls. Ali decides to wait until she can’t hear any more people and only then will she venture from her cabin. In between doors opening and closing, she listens to snippets of conversation. 

A man says, “It’s a little embarrassing to only have these nightgowns to wear…”

And a woman, “I hope there’s a decent hotel…”

And another woman, a little bit older, “Do you think I’ll see Hubie there? Oh, how I have missed him!”   


Ali wonders who “Hubie” is. She guesses he is probably dead like all the people on the Nile, dead just like she is. Maybe being dead isn’t so bad after all if you are really old, she thinks, because, as far as she can tell, most dead people are indeed really old. If you’re old, the chances of meeting people your own age wherever they were going is quite good. And all of the other dead people that you once called friends and family might even be there to greet you in the new place, Elsewhere, or whatever it was called. And, maybe if you were just old enough, you’d know more dead people than live ones, so dying would actually be a quite good thing. As Ali sees it, for the aged, death isn’t much different than moving to a nice retirement community in Florida. 

But Ali isn’t old. She is 21, barely passing for an adult. She doesn’t really personally know any dead people, except for herself of course. To Ali, the thought of being dead seems terribly lonely. 

An hour passes. And then another. The halls grow increasingly silent until there is no longer any noise. Ali begins to hatch a plan. Maybe she could just be a stowaway? Eventually the boat would have to make a return trip, right? And if Ali just stays on it, maybe she could just return to her old life on the pitch with her teammates, and in the arms of Brent. Maybe they could all just forget this ever happened. Ali had heard stories of people who had near-death experiences, people who had flatlined and then come back. But maybe those “lucky” people weren’t lucky at all. They were just the ones who knew enough to stay on the boat. 

Ali imagines her homecoming at Penn State. Everyone will say, “It’s a miracle!” All the newspapers will cover it:  _ LOCAL SOCCER PLAYER BACK FROM THE DEAD; CLAIMS DEATH IS NOTHING BUT A CRUISE _ . She will get a book deal, where she will be able to put her advertising major to good use, and will get a few promotional appearances on the local news. 

Ali sees the doorknob move, and the door slowly moves open. Without really thinking about it, she hides underneath the bed. From her position, she can see a young boy, maybe six or seven, wearing a white captain’s costume with gold epaulets and a matching captain’s hat. He sits himself gently on the lower bunk and appears to take no notice of Ali, who is growing more and more uncomfortable under the bed by the minute. 

The boy’s only movement is the slight swinging of his legs, which are too short to reach the ground from his position on the bunk. Ali has a perfect view of the soles of his shoes. Someone has written  _ L _ on the the left one and  _ R _ on the right one in thick black marker. 

After a few minutes, and after a bad cramp has started to become unbearable in Ali’s left calf, the boy speaks. “I was waiting for you to introduce yourself,” he says with an unusually mature voice for a child, “but I don’t have all day.”  
Ali doesn’t answer. 

“I am the Captain,” the boys says, “and you are not supposed to be in here.”   


Ali still doesn’t answer, silently cursing herself as the pain in her calf from the awkward position she is in grows worse. 

“You know, I can see your hair peeking out from under the bed.”   


Ali quickly wrangles in her long, dark hair that had sprawled out. She stays silent.

“You know, the Captain is speaking to you.”   


“The Captain of what?” Ali whispers, suddenly wondering if she is speaking to god himself.

“The Captain of the SS Nile, of course.”   


“You look far too young to be the captain,” Ali says as she shifts from under the bed. The kid almost looks a little bit like a young Kyle. His hair is dark against his skin, and freckles dot his face. His brown eyes are an almond shape, and he seems to be growing more frustrated by the minute. 

“I assure you my experience and qualifications are exemplary. I have been the Captain for nearly one hundred years.”   


_ What a comedian,  _ Ali thinks.  _ Just like Kyle _ . “How old are you?”

“Seven,” he replies with dignity. 

“Isn’t seven a bit young to be a captain?”

The Captain nods his head. “Yes,” he answers, “I must now take naps in the afternoon. I will probably retire next year.”

Ali is confused—her assertions that this wasn’t a dream start to blur—but she shifts gear. “I want to make the return trip.”   


“I’m afraid these boats only go one way.”   


Ali squints her eyes out of confusion. “That doesn’t make sense. They have to get back somehow.” 

“I don’t make the rules, I only follow them,” says the Captain.    


“What rules? I’m dead, there aren’t any rules anymore.” 

“If you think your death gives you free rein to act as you want, you are terribly wrong.” His eyes glow and his lips purse into a small smile. “Dead wrong, that is,” he says laughing. Ali doesn’t find it quite as funny and simply tilts her head to the side. “Look, let's say you managed somehow to take this boat back to Earth. What do you think would happen?”

“I guess I’d go back to my old life, back to normal, right?”   


The Captain shakes his head. “No. You’d be a ghost. You wouldn’t have a body to go back to. That body is six feet under, so unless you plan to be hanging out underground with a half decomposed body, you’ll be floating around on your own.” Ali shudders at the bluntness of the young captain. 

“But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Trust me. I know people who’ve tried, and it’s no kind of life. I promise. You end up crazy; everyone you love ends up crazy too. Take a piece of advice and get off the boat.”   


Ali’s eyes are welling up with tears again. Dying certainly makes a person emotional, she thinks as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. 

The Captain pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to her. The handkerchief is made from the softest, thinnest cotton, more like paper than cloth, and is embroidered with the words The Captain. Ali blows her nose in it. Her father carries handkerchiefs, and the memory necessitates another nose blow. 

“Don’t cry, it really isn’t so bad here,” says the Captain. 

Ali shakes her head. “I’m not crying, it’s just the dust from under the bed. It got in my eyes.” It was one of the most obvious lies she had ever told, even to a seven year old. She returns the handkerchief to the Captain. 

“Keep it,” he says. “You’ll probably need it again.” He stands with the perfect posture of a career military man, but his head only comes up to Ali’s chest. “I trust you’ll be leaving in the next five minutes,” he says with authority. “You don’t want to stay.” And with that, he quietly closes the cabin door behind him. 

Ali considers what the strange little boy has said. As much as she longs to be with her family and friends, she doesn’t want to be a ghost. She certainly doesn’t want to cause more pain to the people she cares about. She knows there is only one thing to do. Ali looks out the porthole one more time. The sun has almost set, and for a second before she gets up, she wonders if it is the same one that they have at home. 

The only person left on the dock in the orange glow of the sunset is Catherine Christopher. Ali recognizes her, but can’t quite place who she is. She is definitely related to her, if the dark chocolate eyes and strong german facial structure is any indication. Yet, she is too close to Ali’s age to be the next generation of her family, and Ali doesn’t remember having any family members in her generation that were older than her. 

Ali walks out of the exit and onto the wooden dock, very cautious of the fact that she was entering uncharted territory. She felt a bit odd not taking anything off of the boat, it felt like she was returning from vacation and that it would only be natural to have a suitcase in one hand and a mess of travel documents and passports in the other. 

Catherine waves to Ali and then begins walking towards her with purposeful, even strides. “Oh my goodness, Alexandra, look at how big you’ve gotten! God, you look just like Debbie did,” she says with an awe in her voice. And then it clicks. 

“Grandma?” Ali says. Catherine’s eyes were unmistakable, and Ali remembers looking into them all of those late nights on the beach when she was much, much younger. 

“Yes honey,” Catherine says, grabbing on tight to Ali. Ali returns the hug, mouthing  _ what the fuck is going on _ into the void before plastering a smile on her face and pulling back to look her Grandmother in the face. 

“God, we look like we’re the same age,” Ali says with a laugh, still very confused that she was standing in front of what seemed to be a reflection of herself. 

“Welcome to Elsewhere!” Catherine laughs. “Here, no one gets older, everyone gets younger. Don’t worry, they’ll explain all of that at your acclimation appointment.” 

Ali was upset at the revelation that she was going to get younger. It had taken her so long to reach 21, and now it was all for nothing.   
Catherine could apparently see the worry in Ali’s face because she quickly added, “Don’t worry, darling, it all works out in the end, you’re going to absolutely love it here.”  


Understandably, Ali isn’t so sure. 

In Grandma Catherine’s light blue bug convertible, Ali just stares out the window, and lets her grandmother do all of the talking. 

“Do you like architecture?” Grandma Catherine asks.

Ali shrugs. In all honesty, she has never put much thought into the subject. 

“Out of my window, you’ll see a library built by Frank Lloyd Wright. People who know these things say it’s better than any of the buildings he even built on Earth. And Alexandra, it’s not just buildings. You’ll find new works here by many of your favorite artists. Books, paintings, music, whatever you’re into! I just went to an exhibit of new paintings by Picasso, if you can believe it!” Ali thinks Grandma Catherine’s enthusiasm seems forced, as if she’s trying to convince a reluctant child to eat broccoli.  _ I wonder if there’s enough dead footballers like me to have some sort of league here _ Ali wonders, a bit selfishly as Grandma Catherine continues to go on and on about the artists that live in this literal dead-man’s-land.

Ali looks out the car window. So this is Elsewhere, she thinks. Ali sees a place that looks almost like any other place on Earth. There is a creepy quality to how ordinary it is, how much this place resembles real, normal life. There are buildings, houses, stores, roads, cars, bridges, people, trees, flowers, grass, lakes, rivers, beaches, air, stars, and skies. Maybe even a field or two. How entirely unremarkable, she thinks. Elsewhere would have been a short walk down University Lane, or just east of Alexandria. An hour’s ride in the car or an overnight plane trip. As they continue to drive, Ali notices that all of the roads are curved and that even when it seems like they’re driving straight, they’re actually going in a sort of circle. 

After a while, Grandma Catherine realizes that Ali isn’t keeping up her end of the conversation. “Am I talking too much? I know I have a tendency to—”

Ali cuts her off. “What did you mean when you said I was getting younger?”

Grandma Catherine looks at Ali, marveling at how much her granddaughter looked like herself. Genetics are an odd thing, she thinks. “Are you sure you want to know now? They’ll explain it all tomorrow for you.” 

Ali simply nods. 

“Everyone here ages backward from the day they died. When I got here, I was fifty. I’ve been here for about sixteen years, so now I’m thirty-four. For us older people, this is a good thing Alexandra. I imagine it isn’t quite as appealing when one is your age with their whole life ahead and not behind them.” Ali cringes thinking about what Grandma Catherine had just said. It was true; her life was ahead of her, not behind her.  _ Well, until I croaked _ Ali thinks to herself. 

“What happens when I get to zero?” Ali asks. 

“Well, you become a baby again. And when you’re seven days old, you and all of the other babies are sent down the River, back to Earth to be born again. It’s called the Release.”   


“So I’ll only be here twenty-one years, and then I go back to Earth to start all over again?”

“Basically, yes,” Grandma Catherine says. 

Ali can’t believe how unfair this is. If it isn’t bad enough that she died before getting to do anything she wanted to, now she will have to repeat her whole life in reverse until she becomes a small child once again.    


“So I’ll never be older than I am right now?”

“I wouldn’t look at it that way Alexandra. Your mind still acquires experience and memories even while your body—”

Ali explodes, “I AM NEVER GOING TO GET MARRIED OR HAVE KIDS OR WIN A NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP, I AM NEVER GOING TO GET TO PLAY PROFESSIONALLY OR MOVE INTO A REAL HOUSE WITH A REAL FAMILY— THIS FUCKING SUCKS.”

Ali is normally even tempered, and she swears to herself that she has never cursed as much as she has in the afterlife. Grandma Catherine pulls over to the side of the road. “It does fucking suck.” If it weren’t for the fact that her grandmother wasn’t much older than her now, Ali might have found it odd to hear her grandmother swear. 

“But you’ll see, it isn’t all that bad.”

“Not that bad? How the hell could it get any worse? I’m twenty-one, and I’m dead. Dead!” Ali exclaims. For a minute, no one speaks. 

Suddenly, Grandma Catherine pulls back out into the road again. “So how is—was—soccer going? I was able to catch your last game, that was a heartbreaker.”

The game she was referring to was a game against Florida State, in which Ali missed the 5th penalty kick to finish out the regular season. Even though they still had playoffs and their season wasn’t over, Ali still couldn’t help but give herself a tough time for it. 

“It was good, until I broke my—wait, they have television here?” Ali asks, hoping that she’ll at least be able to watch her team play in the semifinals. 

Grandma Catherine laughs. “No, not for sports. there are observation decks, which you’ll learn about soon enough. It is—was—a little tradition of mine to go up to watch your games, I always loved watching you play.”

Ali’s mind begins to wander as the two of them cruise down the long, winding road. Ali thinks about why it took her so long to figure out she was dead. Other people, like Lauren and Hope, seemed to realize immediately, or soon thereafter. She feels like a real idiot. On the field, Ali always prided herself on being a player who caught on quickly, a fast learner. But here she was presented with concrete evidence that she is not as fast as she thinks. 

_ How can I be dead? _ Ali wonders to herself.  _ Aren’t I too young to be dead?  _ When dead people are her age, they’re usually young people with cancer, or dumb college kids who decided to drive drunk.

When Ali was a freshman at Penn State, two football players had been killed drinking and driving. Their faces were all over the news, and the school quickly idolized them. There were gardens planted and statues erected. Ali wonders for a second if there would be such a reaction for her death. _ Nah, there’s never a real reaction unless there’s a lesson to be learned, and the only lesson to be learned from me is to not have surgery, get on a plane, and be on birth control all at the same time to avoid getting some tiny, fatal blood clots _ she thinks.  _ And most people have surgeons who will actually take the time to warn them of shit like that.  _

“Nothing matters here, does it?” Ali asks quietly, breaking her silence. 

“What do you mean?”   


“I mean, you can’t really die, and there’s no point in getting an education because you’re only going to turn into a little kid again. We’re all just getting younger and stupider, and that’s it.” Ali wants to cry, but not in front of her grandmother, who she hadn’t seen in sixteen years. Once again, she pulls over. 

“You could look at things that way, I suppose. But in my opinion, that would be a very boring and limited point of view. I would hope you haven’t embraced such a bleak outlook before you’ve even been here a day.” Cupping Ali’s chin in her hand, grandma Catherine turns Ali’s head so that she can look directly into Ali’s eyes—something Ali’s own mother used to do when she was upset. 

“I don’t want to live here,” Ali yells. “I don’t want to be here!” Despite herself, the tears start up again. 

“I know sweetheart, I know,” Grandma Catherine says. She pulls Ali into an embrace and begins to stroke her long, dark locks. 

“My mom strokes my hair that way,” Ali says as she pulls away. She knows Grandma Catherine meant to be comforting, but it only felt creepy—like her mother was touching her from beyond the grave. 

Grandma Catherine sighs and continues driving once again. 

“Is there soccer here?” Ali asks quietly. Grandma Catherine smiles.    


“Yeah, a youth league just started up a couple months ago, and there’s been a pretty strong co-ed league going on here for a few years now.” Ali felt relief. At least there was a little bit of home still in this new, weird world she found herself in. 

But she knows it’s not the same. She wants to play professionally in Europe, she wants to win her national championship. She wants to go back and coach for her small, hometown club with her dad. But she sighs as she begins to accept the fact that nothing will ever be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated! I know this is a bit different, but please stick with it and I promise it will get good :)


	5. Christie Rampone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali learns more about the way her new life works at the Acclimation Appointment.

Ali sits up in her hospital bed, her mom and dad are across from her. “It looks like you’re out of the woods Alex, everything went great. They threw in a catheter, and you’re all better.” Ali smiles, and readjusts her bun. She doesn’t have much energy, and she is on all sorts of medication, but finally she can breathe freely again, with no fear of anymore blood clots reaching her heart. 

Ali goes back to class. Everyone is eager to hear about her near death experience. “It’s hard for me to talk about it,” she says, because truthfully, it is. How do you explain the feeling of not knowing if you’re going to die or live to someone who’s never been through it themselves? People think Ali has become dep since her hospital stay, but in reality, she doesn’t remember half of it thanks to the multitude of medications they had running in her veins. 

Ali is able to go to the semi-final game, and then to the final, where her team takes it all. They all have “#22” written on the backs of her hands, and the first thing they do after they are given the trophy is run to the stands to let Ali, their fearless captain, lift it. Ali smiles as photographers capture the moment, and stories run in the paper about how great of a team Penn State is and how they really came together in the face of adversity. 

Ali graduates, and Brent proposes on the night they go out to dinner to celebrate Ali being drafted to a team in Germany. She is fully recovered, and maybe a bit ahead even of where she was before. She trained hard, and it paid off when the coach from Frankfurt called her himself. Brent moves with Ali, and they get married in Frankfurt, in a big, beautiful church. Even Kyle is there as Ali walks down the aisle in a gorgeous white gown. That night, they go to a nice resort, and—

“Rise and shine, my Alexandra!” Grandma Catherine interrupts Ali’s dream at seven the next morning. 

Ali buries her head under the blankets. “Go away,” she mutters, feeling a tad guilty about how she is talking to her own grandmother. 

Grandma Catherine opens the curtains. “It looks like it is going to be a beautiful day,” she says. 

Ali yawns, her head still under the covers. “We’re  _ dead _ . We’ve been over this. What in the world do I have to get up for?”   


“That’s certainly a negative way of looking at things. There are loads and loads of things to do in Elsewhere,” says Grandma Catherine as she opens the next set of curtains directly across from the bed. The room Ali is staying in (she can’t bring herself to say ‘her’ room; her room is located in State College, directly across from Tiff’s room) has five windows. It almost reminds her a bit of a greenhouse, like the ones she took field trips to in elementary school.

“You don’t have to open all of them,” Ali says, nodding towards the window.

“Oh, I like a lot of light, don’t you?” Grandma Catherine replies. It is odd, seeing someone as young as her grandmother talk like an old person, and even odder, Ali notices, how she has her hair done. Just like Ali, she prefers to wear her hair in a messy bun. It even appears that she does it the same way; no bobby-pins, just two hair ties wrapped around coils of hair. Ali thinks about how her grandmother looks just as she would have if she had made it to see 34. 

Ali now wonders what specifically Grandma Catherine meant when she said there was “loads to do in Elsewhere.” On Earth, Ali was constantly bombarded by soccer and studying and trying her best to have a social life in the midst of chaos that was being an athlete. Since she had died, everything she was doing on Earth had seemed entirely meaningless. From Ali’s point of view, the question of what her life would be was now definitively answered. The story of her life is short and pointless: There once was a girl who broke her leg and got some blood-clots, and she died. The end.

“You have your acclimation appointment at eight-thirty” says Grandma Catherine. 

Ali removes her head from under the covers. “What’s that?”

“It’s a sort of orientation for the newly dead,” Grandma Catherine replies. 

“Can I wear this?” Ali indicates her white nightgown. She has been wearing it so long that it is more a light gray than white, but she doesn’t care. Why would the dead care about the clothes they are wearing anyway?

“Yes, of course. You wouldn’t be the first to wear the Nile pajamas to the acclimation appointment. You could always borrow something of mine, we’re about the same size I think,” she says, pointing towards her closet. It’s true, the two women are the same size, but it seems that all of Grandma Catherine’s clothes aren’t exactly Ali’s style. 

“If it’s the same to you, I think I’ll just wear my pajamas after all.”

“Sure,” Grandma Catherine says. “We can buy you some clothes when you’re ready,” she says. “Just say the word.” 

But Ali can’t bring herself to care what she wears anymore and decides to change the subject. “I’ve been wondering what I should call you, by the way. ‘Grandma’ just doesn’t seem right considering you don’t even look old enough to be my mother.”   


“Well I’m flattered. All of the younger Catherine’s have told me that they started going by Caty back on Earth, so that sounds just fine to me, if that’s okay with you,” she says, looking towards Ali. 

Ali nods. “Caty.”

“And what do you like to be called?” Caty asks.

“Well, everyone back home started calling me Ali once I got in school, and Alexandra’s kind of a mouthful, so Ali’s just fine.”   


Caty smiles. “Ali.” 

“I’m not really feeling well,” Ali says suddenly, clutching her head. “Would it be okay if I stayed in bed today, and we changed my appointment to tomorrow?” asks Ali. The truth is, she feels fine, but the thought of really finalizing her death terrifies her. 

Caty shakes her head. “Sorry, honey, but everyone’s got to have their acclimation appointment their first day in Elsewhere. No exceptions.” 

Ali stands up and turns to Caty’s bedroom window, which overlooks an unruly garden. She can identify roses, lilies, lavender, sunflowers, chrysanthemums, begonias, gardenias, an apple tree, an orange tree, an olive tree, and a cherry tree. It looks just like the garden that was once outside of her grandmother’s home in Virginia. “Is that your garden?” Ali asks. 

“Yes,” Caty answers.

“It looks just like the one outside of your old house,” Ali says, early memories on Virginia beach flooding back to her. 

Caty nods and her lips purse into a smile. “It feels like a piece of my old life,” she says. “This one’s a bit messier than the one in Virginia. I know I should probably trim everything back and impose some order on it, but I can never bring myself to prune a rosebush or clip a bud. A flower’s life is short enough as it is. My garden’s a beautiful mess, I’m afraid.” All Ali can bring herself to do is laugh at the irony of what her grandmother just said. 

—

“What were those observation decks that you talked about?” Ali asks on the way to the acclimation appointment. 

“Oh, the ODs. They’re these places where you can see all the way to Earth. For limited amounts of time, of course. Do you remember when you saw your funeral on the ship?”

“Yes,” Ali says. “From the binoculars.” As long as she lived (died?), she would never forget it. 

“Well, they have Observation Decks set up throughout Elsewhere. They’ll go over it today at your appointment.”

Ali nods. 

“Just out of curiousity, is there anyone in particular you’d like to see?” Caty asks. 

Of course, Ali misses her mom and dad. She misses Kyle, who she hadn’t seen in a long time. She misses her teammates, and her coaches, and her friends who’d she stay up with just laughing at the stupidest things. She misses Brent, she misses his big brown eyes and they way that he’d comfort her when the world seemed to be crashing down. She suddenly remembers that she didn’t see him at the funeral. As much as she wants to think that she just missed him, he wasn’t near her family, and he wasn’t with the Penn State crew.  _ Weird _ , she thinks.  _ He was the one to realize what was going on to begin with.  _

Suddenly, Caty gestures out the window, causing the car to swerve just a tiny bit. “That’s where your appointment is. It’s called the Registry. I pointed it out yesterday, but I think you were in a bit of a different place.”   


Out of her window, Ali sees a gargantuan, rather homely structure. It is certainly the tallest building Ali has ever seen, it seems to stretch up to the heavens—wait was heaven a thing? Was  _ this _ heaven? Ali recollects her thoughts. Despite its size, the Registry looks like a child built it: walls, stairways, and other additions jut out at improbable angles, and the construction seems improvised, almost like the makeshift forts Ali used to build with Kyle when they were little. “It’s weird,” Ali announces. 

“It used to be better looking,” says Caty, “but the building’s needs are always outpacing its size. Architects are constantly concocting ways to expand the building, and construction workers are constantly implementing those plans. Some people say the building looks like it’s growing right before your eyes.” 

Caty makes a left turn into the Registry parking lot. She stops the car in front of one of the building’s multiple entrances. 

“Do you want me to walk you inside? It can get kind of confusing in there,” Caty says. 

“No, I think I can manage. Penn State is like a maze,” Ali says with a polite smile. 

Caty nods. “I’ll pick you up around five, then. Try to have a good day, Ali.”

Although Ali has arrived at the Registry fifteen minutes early, it takes her nearly twenty-five minutes to find the Office of Acclimation. The maps posted at the elevator shaft are long and outdated, and no one who works at the building seems able to give proper directions, often getting lost themselves as they try to make a mental map of the place. When Ali attempts to retrace her footsteps, she keeps finding new doorways that she could swear weren’t there five minutes earlier. 

At random, she decides to give one of the new doorways a try. She finds a hallway and, at the end of the hallway, another door. An unofficial-looking cardboard sign indicates that behind this door lies the temporary home of the Office of Acclimation.    


Ali opens the door. Inside, she finds a busy, perfectly ordinary-looking reception area. Like Caty had told her, plenty of people are still wearing their pajamas too. Ali thinks that this could be any old dentist or doctor's office back on Earth. Even the Penn State medical center Brent had initially brought her to looked a little bit like the office she now found herself in. 

Until she spotted the poster. 

The poster was an image of a woman, sitting up in a wooden coffin. Her shoulders were shrugged and her elbows were bent with her palms facing upward, as if to say “I don’t know.”    


_ SO YOU’RE DEAD, NOW WHAT? The Office of Acclimation is here to help _ the poster reads. 

Ali shudders at the bluntness of the poster. She was still trying to adjust to the idea of being dead, and the woman sitting up in the coffin freaked her out more than it should have, especially considering the fact that she had seen her own dead body lying still in a coffin. 

The peevish-looking man at the front desk reminds Ali of the poster; he too is faded, dated, and grim. He wears his hair in a 1960’s part and his skin has a greenish tint. He looks almost, well—dead.  _ God, do I look like I’m dead too? _ Ali wonders. 

“Excuse me,” Ali says, “I have an appointment here at—”

The man clears her throat and nods her head in the direction of a bell that sits on the desk. A sign by the bell reads, _ PLEASE RING BELL FOR ASSISTANCE!!! _

Ali obeys. The man clears her throat again and plasters a broad fake smile across his face. “Yes, how may I help you?”  
“I have an appointment at eight—”

The man’s fake smile turns into a definitive frown. “Why didn’t you say so? You’re five minutes late for the video! Make haste, make haste, make haste!”   


“I’m sorry,” Ali apologizes. “I couldn’t find—”   


The man interrupts Ali again. “I have no time for your apologies.” 

Ali dislikes being interrupted, but keeps quiet. From years of watching her teammates be punished for talking back to coaches, she knows better than to keep going with this man. 

The man deposits Ali in a dusty, darkened room with a battered VCR and a TV. The room, which is more like a supply closet, barely has enough space for its one chair. “I will return for you when the video is over,” the man says. “Oh yes, enjoy the film,” he adds in a perfunctory manner as he walks out the door. 

Ali sits in the lone chair. The video is like the dry informational videos that she had watched in her high school driver’s ed class on traffic safety, and she can’t help but feel a bit bored. 

The video begins with a cartoon parrot, which Ali doesn’t understand since most of the viewers were bound to be old people, and cartoons were mostly geared towards little kids. But she goes with it. “I’m Polly,” says the parrot. “If you’re watching this video, that means you’re dead dead dead! Greetings and salutations, dead people!” Ali finds the animation primitive, like one of the old Mickey mouse cartoons, and Polly extremely agitating. 

With the detestable Polly as a guide, the video covers some of what Ali and Caty had already discussed: how everyone in Elsewhere ages backward and becomes a baby, and how the babies are sent down the River when they are seven days old, back to Earth. “On Earth,” Polly squawks, “man ages from the time he is born to an indeterminate point in the future, when he will die die die!” The video then shows a cartoon of a young child aging to the point of being an old man, and then it shows him jumping in a casket and being presumably dead. “On Elsewhere, a life is more finite: man dies, then ages backward until he is a baby.” The cartoon then plays in reverse. “When man becomes a baby again, he is ready to be sent back to Earth, where the process begins again.” The cartoon baby becomes a boy, then becomes a man, and finally becomes an old man. Ali imagines her life depicted on a cartoon timeline. She would only make it to being somewhere around the cartoon man, she figures. And then she wonders if boys are always boys, and girls are always girls, and if dogs are always dogs, and that’s how the human race somehow ended up with a perfect 1:1 ratio of men to women. 

The video also ventures into subject matter that Ali and Caty had not discussed in much detail. 

Ali learns the proper way to state her age: your current age followed by the number of years you have been in Elsewhere. Ali’s current age is 21-0. She also learns that her new birthday is April 14. It is somewhat of a confusing calculation that involves adding the number of days past one’s last birthday to the day one died. 

She learns that no one new is born in Elsewhere, but no one dies either. People get sick and hurt, but with time, everyone eventually heals. Consequently, sickness isn’t much of an issue here. 

She learns that you are forbidden to make contact with people on Earth (“Contact is a no-no! It’s a no-no!” Polly squawks, waving his yellow beak furiously from side to side), but that you can view Earth from the Observation Decks anytime. Observation Decks, like the one on the SS Nile, aren’t just for funerals. They are also located on docked boats and lighthouses scattered throughout Elsewhere. For the price of just one eternim, Ali could view whoever or whatever she wants back on Earth for five minutes. Ali decided right then to ask Caty to drive her to the nearest Observation Deck tonight. 

She learns that everyone has to choose an avocation. From what Ali could tell, an avocation is basically like a job, except you are actually supposed to like doing it. Ali shakes her head at that part. How does she know what she wants to do? Not to mention, at her age, what is she even trained for? She didn’t think advertising would be a hot commodity in the land of the dead. 

She learns the official definition of  _ acclimation _ . “Acclimation is the process by which the newly deceased become residents of Elsewhere. So welcome welcome welcome, dead people!” Polly yells.

She learns many, many, many other things that she is sure she will probably forget within five minutes of walking out of the building.    


The end of the video deals with the more metaphysical issues on Elsewhere. It talks about how human existence is like a circle and a line at the same time. It is a circle, because everything that was old would be new and everything that was new became old. It is a line because the circle stretched out indefinitely, infinitely even. People die. People are born. People die again. Each birth and death is a little circle, and the sum of all those circles is a life and a line. The whole discussion reminds Ali of the philosophy class she took last semester.  _ God _ , she thinks,  _ how Professor Brown would love to hear this shit. _

She finds herself drifting off to sleep, but wakes several minutes later to the sound of the earlier man’s voice admonishing her. “I hope you didn’t sleep through the whole thing, get up! Now!” Ali thinks to herself about how everyone said death is just an eternal slumber, and suddenly she wishes that was true.    


Ali jumps to her feet. “I’m sorry. I’m just really exhausted from dying and everything, and—” 

The man yet again interrupts. “It doesn’t matter to me; your behavior only hurts yourself.” He sighs. “You have your meeting with your acclimation counselor, Christie Rampone, now. She is very well respected, so, you know, it wouldn’t do for you to fall asleep during your meeting with her.”   


'I honestly don’t think I missed much,” Ali apologizes. 

“All right. Tell me why human existence is like a circle and a line,” the man demands. 

Ali racks her brain. “It’s like a circle, because, um… Earth is a sphere, which is kind of like, a, um, three-dimensional circle?”   


The man shakes his head in disgust. “Exactly as I thought!”

“Look, I’m sorry about falling asleep.” Ali speaks very quickly to avoid being interrupted again. “Maybe I can watch the end of the video again?” 

The man ignores Ali. “We have a lot to get done today, Ms. Krieger. Things will go far more smoothly if you can manage to stay awake,” he says, ushering her inside of a cosy office. 

“This is Alexandra Blaire Krieger, Mrs. Rampone.” The man pronounces Ali’s name as if it were a particularly unpleasant and harsh word. Christie Rampone looks up as the man and Ali enter the office. She looks to be in her thirties, and has long, dirty blonde hair pulled up in a braid. Her eyes are friendly, and her cheeks kind of remind Ali of a chipmunk.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” Christie calls as the man basically slams the door in her face. “Ah, well perhaps he didn’t hear me? He seems to have peculiarly bad hearing, even for a dead person. He’s always interrupting me.”

Ali laughs politely, and feels a bit more comfortable now that she’s sitting in the office of Christie Rampone. It feels like she is sitting with her academic supervisor at Penn State, or even with her high school college counselor. It feels  _ normal _ , even. 

“Hello, Alexandra Krieger. I am Christie Rampone, your acclimation counselor. Please, get comfortable.” She indicates that Ali should sit in the chair in front of her desk. Christie seems familiar to Ali, but she can’t quite place it and she doesn’t feel like she is in the position to be asking questions just yet. 

Ali sits in a comfortable chair in the corner of the office. It feels homey and well-used, and it makes Ali feel like Elsewhere might not be a completely terrible place after all. 

Christie carefully removes a file from the bottom of her neatly stacked paper work in the center of her desk. “You’re from Bermuda where you died in a boating accident?”   


“Yeah, no, not me,” Ali says, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.    


“Sorry about that,” Christie says as she removes another file. “Manhattan, died of breast-cancer?” Ali shakes her head. She was 21, far too young die of anything, let alone cancer she thinks.

Christie selects a third file. “Pennsylvania? Pulmonary embolisms?”

“That’s me,” Ali says with a nod. 

“Well”—Christie shrugs—”I guess it could be worse. Damn girl, you came back 14 times, what a fighter,” Christie says with astonishment in her voice as she reaches over the desk to give Ali a high-five. 

Once again, Ali is confused as her hand meets Christie’s. “What do you mean?”   


“I mean they resuscitated you  _ fourteen _ times. Most of the time, it’s four or five tops, six if we’re pushing it.” Christie whistles as she puts down the sheet. “I came back eight and I thought that was good,” Christie says. 

“What from?” Ali asks curiously. “If you don’t mind me asking.”   


Christie laughs. “Oh, me? It was stupid. Heat stroke gone bad, I was outside in the sun and didn’t listen to my body…” Christie’s voice grows quiet in Ali’s head as she finally realizes who she’s talking to. 

_ USWNT Star Dies of Heatstroke During Training _ , the papers had read all over a few years back. Christie Rampone was on the World Cup winning ‘99 team, and suddenly Ali feels a little bit starstruck.

“Are you okay? You haven’t talked in a little bit,” Christie says, looking at Ali with serious concern in her eyes. “ I know this can be a lot.”    


“Oh, I’m fine,” Ali says, snapping back into reality. 

“I know it’s hard for young people to believe all of this—they think they’re immortal,” Christie states. “Most young people think they’re in a dream for the longest time.”

“Oh, that’s normal?” Ali asks, suddenly relieved that she wasn’t crazy for thinking that this whole ordeal is a dream.

“Yep. I knew a man who was here for fifty years and went all the way back to Earth without catching on,” Christie says plainly. “So, do you have any initial thoughts about an avocation? 

Ali shrugs. “Not really. I’ve never really had a job on Earth because I was still in school and playing.”   


“Oh, playing what?”   


“Soccer,” Ali says, waiting for Christie to gush about her own experiences. 

But Christie doesn’t. She is humble, Ali quickly finds out. “Oh yeah, I played a little bit too. It takes up a lot of time, doesn’t it?”

Ali resists the urge to further question her, and just nods. 

“Is there anything you particularly loved on Earth?”   


Ali shrugs again. On Earth, she was good at soccer, and English, and swimming, and even surfing a little bit. 

“Anything you really cared about?” Christie further questions. 

“Helping recovering addicts,” Ali quickly answers. “I never really got the chance to because I, you know,  _ died _ , but it was something that I really wanted to do.” Ali tears up thinking about her brother. 

“Oh, here,” Christie says, sympathetically handing her a tissue. Ali gladly accepts it, wiping the corners of her eyes. “I think that sounds wonderful, Ali. We actually have an office for incoming people who struggled with addiction on Earth, and I think you’d be perfect to work there.”   


“I’ll have to think about it,” Ali says. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Christie asks Ali a bit about her life on Earth. To Ali, her old life has already begun to seem like a story she is telling about someone else entirely. Once upon a time, a girl named Alexandra Krieger lived in Alexandria, Virginia, and she died. 

“Were you happy?” Christie asks.

Ali thinks about Christie’s question. “Why do you want to know?”   


“Don’t worry. It’s not a test. It’s just something I like to ask all my advisees.”    


In truth, Ali hadn’t put much thought into whether she was happy before. She supposes that since she never thought about it, she must have been happy. People who are happy don’t really need to ask themselves if they are happy or not, do they? They just  _ are _ happy, she thinks.

“I suppose I must have been happy,” Ali says. And as soon as she says it, she knows it’s true. One silly little errant teardrop runs out of the corner of her eye. Ali quickly brushes it away. A second tear follows, and then a third, and it isn’t long before she finds she is crying. 

“I’m sorry, I seem to cry a lot lately,” Ali says, accepting the box of tissues that Christie pushes across her desk.    


“Perfectly normal,” she says. 

Ali had been happy. How remarkable, she thinks. The whole time she had been on Earth she hadn’t considered herself a particularly happy person. Like many people her age, she had been moody and miserable for what she now sees as totally foolish reasons: she didn’t make the All-American team, or she missed her PK, or she failed a test. Looking back, those things really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of life. They didn’t matter now that she was dead. Now Ali finally sees the truth. She had been happy. Happy, happy, happy. Her parents loved her, and her brother did too, even though he wasn’t exactly around to tell her. She had the greatest teammates in the world, who all adored her. She was given a scholarship to the school of her dreams. She had a boyfriend who thought she was the prettiest girl to have ever existed. Until a week ago, Ali realizes, her life had been almost entirely without obstacle. And now, it was over. 

“All you alright?” Christie asks, her voice filled with concern. 

Ali nods, even though she feels anything but alright. 

“I forgot to mention this before. People who die as young as you, that is to say, twenty-five and under, can be sent back to Earth early.”   


“What do you mean?” asks Ali.

“Young people sometimes find the process of adjusting to life in Elsewhere quite difficult and their acclimations ultimately fail. So, if you choose, you can go back to Earth early. As long as you declare your intentions within the first year of residence. It’s called the Sneaker Clause.”   


"Would I go back to my old life?”

Christie laughs. “Oh, no. You would start all over again as a baby. Of course, you might run into people you used to know, but they wouldn’t know you, and in all likelihood, you wouldn’t recognize them.”

“Is there anyway I can go back to my old life?”

Christie looks at Ali sternly. “Now I must warn you, Alexandra. There is no way you can or should go back to your old life. Your old life is over, and you can never go back. You may hear of a place called the Well—”

“What’s the Well?” Ali asks in an outburst. 

“It’s strictly forbidden, is what it is,” says Christie. “Now about the Sneaker Clause—”   


“Why is it forbidden?” Ali asks, unable to restrain her curiosity.

Christie shakes her head. “It just is. Now, about the Sneaker Clause—”   


“I don’t think that’s for me,” Ali interrupts. As much as she misses Earth, she realizes that what she misses about Earth is all the people she knows there. Without them, going back seems pointless. Not to mention, she doesn’t want to be a baby just yet. 

Christie nods. “Of course, you still have a year to decide.”    


“I understand.” Ali pauses. “Um, Christie, can I ask you one more question?”   


“You want to know where God is in all of this, am I right?” Christie asks, not even flinching. 

Ali is genuinely surprised. Christie has read her mind. “How did you know I was going to ask that?”    


“Let’s just say I’ve been doing this for enough time.” Christie says. “God’s there in the same way He, She, or They were before to you. Nothing has changed.”   


_ How could Christie say that? _ Ali wonders. For her, everything has changed. 

“I think you’ll find,” Christie continues, “that dying is just another part of living. In time you may even come to see your death as a birth. Just think of it as  _ Alexandra Krieger: The Sequel _ .” Christie sits back in her chair and looks at her watch. “Oh, we need to go! We have to get you over to the Department of Last Words, or Michael’s going to have my head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are really appreciated!!! :) I'll try to get another chapter of "The Great Escape" up soon, this one is only going up because I have it prewritten lol


	6. "Um"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali learns her last words, spends a whole lot of time at the Observation Decks, and meets a new face in Elsewhere.

At the Department of Last Words, Ali is met by an efficient man who reminds Ali of a youth soccer coach. He is young, with sweeping light brown hair. “Hello, Ms. Krieger,” the man says. “I’m Michael Miles, and I just need to confirm what your last words were.”

“I’m not sure I remember. I was really out of it at the end, I think,” Ali says apologetically. 

“Oh, that’s all right. It’s just a formality really,” says Michael. He consults a musty encyclopedia-sized book. “Right, it says here your last words, or I should say last word, was ‘um’.”

Ali waits for Michael to finish speaking. In fact, she is quite interested to know what her last words were. Would they be profound? Sad? Pathetic? Heartrending? Illuminating? Angry? Horrified? After several moments of silence, Ali realizes Michael is starting at her. “So,” says Ali. 

“So,” replies Michael in a mocking tone, “was it ‘um’?”

“Was it um what?” Ali asks. 

“I meant, was your last word ‘um’?” he says, putting air quotes around ‘um’.

“You’re saying the last thing I ever said was ‘um’?”

“That’s what it says in the book, and the book’s never wrong.” Michael pats the tome affectionately.    


“God, that’s a shitty last word to have,’ Ali says with a slight laugh. 

Michael laughs. “Trust me, I’ve heard worse.” Michael leans in to whisper in Ali’s ear. “Believe it or not, people have died while having sex before.  _ Trust me _ , I’ve heard worse.”

Ali laughs a hearty laugh for the first time in a long time. “Man, I just wish I’d said something more…” Ali pauses. “Something, more, um…” Her voice trails off.

“Right,” Michael says, smirking. “So, I need you to sign off on this.”

Ali signs, and then nods at Michael. “Well, it’s been nice,  _ um _ , meeting you.”

As Ali is leaving, she reflects on her last words. If your last words are somehow meant to encapsulate your entire existence, Ali finds  _ um _ strangely appropriate.  _ Um  _ means nothing.  _ Um  _ is what you say while you’re thinking of what you’ll really say.  _ Um _ suggests someone is interrupted before they’d begun.  _ Um  _ is a twenty-one-year-old girl who dies of a stupid surgical complication that could have easily been prevented.  _ Um.  _ Ali shakes her head, vowing to omit  _ um _ , and all equally meaningless words ( _ uh, like, huh, sorta, kinda, oh, hey, maybe _ ) from her vocabulary.

Back in the lobby of the Office of Acclimation, Ali is happy to spot a familiar mess of curls and a blonde ponytail. “Lauren! Hope!”

Lauren turns around, smiling broadly at Ali, and Hope quickly follows. “Did you just do your last words too?”

Ali nods. “Apparently, all I said was ‘um,’ although I was too out of it to remember anyway. How were yours?”

“Well”—Hope hesitates—”I can’t really repeat mine.”

“Come on,” Ali says, “I just told you mine, and they—it, I mean, was really bad.”

“Fine,” Hope says, before looking up and taking a deep breath. “Mine were, ‘Fucking asshole, who the fuck do you think you are?’”

Ali and Lauren stifle laughs as they look back towards Hope. 

“Oh come on, what were yours Lauren?”   


“Mine were ‘I love you’, thank you very much. At least one of us had some decent last words.”

“Aw, how cute,” Hope says sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “I wish I hadn’t cursed though, I mean, that’s now on my permanent record.”

“Oh cut yourself a little slack,” Ali says, “you’d just been hit by a car for god’s sakes.”   


At that moment, Christie Rampone bounds into the lobby.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she says, looking between the three girls. Ali can see both Hope and Lauren’s eyes go wide in recognition of the ex-soccer star, but they too keep quiet. “I was hoping to talk to Alexandra for a minute.”   


“No,” Lauren says, “we were actually just leaving.” Lauren pulls Hope out of the lobby by her arm, and Christie and Ali are left alone. 

“Pretty hair,” Christie says, referring to Lauren’s curls.

“Yes,” Ali says in agreement.

“Well, Ali, a pretty perfect position for you just opened up in the Department of Addict Recovery,” she says. “You mentioned before that you played soccer, right?”

Ali nods.    


“Well, a position just opened up where you would be running the sports part of the department. It’s really good for these people to stay active in order to have a smoother transition into a sober lifestyle, and I think you would do a fantastic job getting these people involved in both the recreational level and the elite level leagues we have here.”   


Ali’s eyes go wide. If she could spend her days around soccer, she was happy. “Um,” Ali says.  _ Why can’t I stop saying um?  _ “Um, that sounds great.”

Ali thinks back to all of the time she spent playing under her dad. Those bright weekend days on the field fill her heart with happy memories. Before her dad left, her mom would come watch, with Ali playing on one field and Kyle on the one opposite her. The two of them played for the same club, and nothing made their parents happier than watching their two kids practice together and push each other to be better players. Ali’s life had revolved around soccer. Her family life, her personal life, her social life—all products of the most beautiful game. 

“So, the position? It’s perfect, right?” Christie beams at Ali. 

At first, Ali thought the job sounded like something she might enjoy, but now she isn’t so positive. Could she really deal with all of those happy memories flooding back now that she was dead? “I’m not sure,” Ali finally says.    


“Not sure? But a minute ago, you seemed so—”

Ali interrupts. “It sounds good, but…” She clears her throat. “I just think I need to take some time to myself first. I’m still sort of getting used to the idea of being dead.”

Christie nods. “Perfectly understandable,” she says, and nods her head yet again. Ali can see her nods are meant to conceal her disappointment. 

“I don’t have to decide today, do I?” Ali asks. 

“No,” Christie says. “No you don’t have to decide today. We’ll talk again next week. Of course, the position may be filled by then.”   


“I understand,” Ali says. 

“I must caution you Alexandra. The longer you wait to start your new life, the harder it may become.”   


“My new life? What new life?” Ali’s voice is suddenly hard, her dark eyes cold.    


“This one right here,” says Christie, “this new life.”

Ali just laughs. “That’s just words, isn’t it? You can call it life, but it’s really just death.”   


“If this isn’t life, then what is it?” Christie asks. 

“My life is on Earth. My life is not here,” Ali replies. “My life is with my teammates, and my parents, and my boyfriend. My life is over.”   


“You’re wrong, Ali,” Christie says, gently placing a hand on Ali’s shoulder.

“I’m dead,” Ali says incredulously. “DEAD!” she yells, shaking Christie’s hand off of her. 

Christie looks a little bit hurt. “Death,” she says, “is just a state of mind. It’s like thinking you’re going to lose the match before even stepping foot on the pitch. Many people on Earth spend their whole lives dead, but you’re too young to probably understand what I mean.”

_ Yes _ , Ali thinks.  _ Exactly my point. _ She hears a clock strike five. “I have to go. My grandmother’s waiting for me.” 

Watching Ali run off, Christie calls after her, “At least come to play some pickup sometime!”

Ali doesn’t answer. She finds Caty’s car parked in front of the Registry. Ali opens the door and gets in. Before Caty can say a single word, Ali asks, “Would it be okay if we went to one of the Observation Decks?” 

“Oh, Ali, it’s your first real night here. Wouldn’t you prefer to do something else? We can do whatever you want.”

“What I’d really like to do is see Mom, and Dad, and Kyle, and my boyfriend, Brent. And some other people too. Is that okay?”   


Caty smiles. “If I were you, I’d be missing Brent too. What a great guy he was to you.” 

Ali’s heart catches in her throat, thinking of all of the possible things that her own Grandmother has possibly seen her do with Brent. “Don’t worry,” she continues, “I gave you some privacy,” she says with a smirk. Ali is still silent, her mind racing through the worst her grandmother could have possibly seen. Caty must realize, because she finally pats Ali’s thigh from across the center console and laughs. “We can go to the Observation Deck near the house, it’s just a few minutes away.”

After a few minutes, Caty stops her car on the narrow strip of road that runs parallel to the beach. “I could come with you,” she says, “I haven’t seen Debbie in the longest time.”

“Mom’s old now,” says Ali. “She’s older than you.”

“It’s hard to believe. Where does the time go?” Caty sighs. “I’ve always hated that phrase. It makes it sound like time went on holiday, and is expected back any day now. ‘TIme flies’ is another one I hate. Apparently, time does quite a bit of traveling, though.” Caty sighs again. “So, do you want me to come with you?”

Ali would like nothing less than for Caty to accompany her. “I might be awhile,” she says. 

“These places. They can be dangerous, Ali.”

“Why?”

“People get obsessed. It’s like a drug.”

Ali looks at the red lighthouse, which has a row of brightly lit glass windows at the top. The windows remind Ali of teeth. She can’t decide of the lighthouse looks like it’s smiling or snarling. “How do I get inside?” Ali asks. 

“Follow the path until you reach the entrance.” Caty points out the car window: a wooden boardwalk, gray with water and time, joins the red lighthouse tenuously to the land. “Then take the elevator to the top floor. That’s where you’ll find the Observation Deck.”   


Caty takes her wallet out of the glove compartment. She removes five eternims from her change purse and places them in Ali’s hand. “These will buy you twenty-five minutes of time. Is that enough?”

Ali sighs. Would any amount of time ever make up for the fact that she is dead? “Yes, thank you,” she says, closing her hand around the coins. 

The Observation Deck, or OD, looks almost exactly like the one on the SS Nile except it is smaller. The room has windows on all sides, lined with a tidy row of binoculars. The same man from the Department of Last Words sits in a glass box by the elevator. “So, um, how is, um, death treating you?”

“What are you doing here?” Ali asks.

“Well, I picked this up as a night shift, it’s pretty entertaining watching the reactions of people, quite honestly.” The guy looks to be a bit older than Ali, maybe in his mid to late twenties. He has bright blue eyes, and shaggy light-brown hair. He looks like an athlete, appearing to be well over six feet tall with a muscular build. 

“Well that’s, um, nice,” Ali says, matching his antics. 

“Yeah. So, I never really got to look at your case. If you don’t mind me asking, how exactly did you end up here?”

Ali laughs at the bluntness. When you’re already dead, what’s the worst that can happen? “Got surgery, got blood clots, and then I died. What about you?”

Michael’s eyes go wide and he smiles. Kind of weird, Ali thinks, that this is how he responds to hearing someone’s death background. “Oh sweet, me too! Tore my ACL and ended up with a blood clot.” Michael reaches out from the glass to give Ali a high-five. 

“How’d you tear your ACL?”

“Soccer,” Michael says. “I was a dumb forward who was trying to get too fancy, and I paid for it.”   


Ali smiles and nods her head. “I’m a defender turned midfielder,” she says. 

“Really? How good are you, my team just lost our center-mid and we need a replacement.”   


Ali laughs. “I’m decent. When do you guys play?”   


Michael goes on to explain the schedule of their league, and Ali half-heartedly listens, itching to get to a pair of binoculars. 

“So can I count you in?” Michael asks. 

“Huh?” Ali asks.  _ Dammit, back at it again with the useless words _ . “Oh, I mean yeah, I’ll be there!” 

Ali selects Binoculars #22, sticking with her most familiar number. They face the land, which Ali is happy about, because after all the time on the Nile Ali has grown tired of water. She sits on the hard metal stool and places an eternim in the slot. 

Ali watches her family first. Even though Mom and Dad divorced six years ago, it appears that Deb is letting Ken stay in the house that Ali grew up in. Debbie watches the dishes, her eyes void of any emotion, and Ken appears to be doing the  _ New York Times  _ crossword puzzle, but he isn’t really. He just keeps tracing over the same answer with his pencil until he’s pierced through the newspaper all the way through and is writing on the tablecloth. The house itself doesn’t seem too different than when she had last seen it at Thanksgiving. The walls are still painted warm yellow and rust tones, and artwork from her and Kyle’s elementary school days are still hung on the fridge. 

The lenses click shut before Ali gets to hear her parents talk. With her next coin, Ali decides to watch someone else. She settles on her younger cousin, also named Ally. 

Ally is sitting on her bed. She has gotten bigger, the 12 year old suddenly not looking like a little kid anymore. She slumps against her headboard, a small stuffed animal dog that Ali had bought her for her fifth birthday clutched in her scrawny arms. “Ally, dinner’s ready,” she can her her aunt say softly from behind the bedroom door. “It’s your favorite.”   


“I’m not hungry,” Ally replies, turning over and clutching the dog even tighter. A single tear escapes her eye before she is full on crying.    


“Honey, open up,” Ali can hear her aunt saying, trying to get the locked door to open before her. All Ally does is continue to cry on the bed, her sobs getting louder and louder. Ally’s mom sighs, and Ali can hear murmuring from behind the door between her Aunt and Uncle. 

Ali takes a good look at Ally. She looks just like she and Kyle did at that age. 

_ Kyle _ , Ali remembers as the lenses click shut.

Her last three eternims, Ali watches Kyle slam heroin until he looks like he is dead, slumped in the back seat of some random persons car. He doesn’t look like himself—his brown eyes appear to be almost black, and his tan skin has gone pale. Ali wonders if Kyle realizes she is dead. Sure, he was at the funeral, but did he really know what was going on? She worries about him, even though she knows she shouldn’t. He has survived this many years, what’s stopping him from surviving more years to come? But Ali quickly realizes that she has never heard of him doing heroin. And heroin isn’t something you mess with. 

At first, Ali feels bad about snooping in on her loved ones, but the feeling doesn’t last. She rationalizes that she is really doing this for them. That she is a beautiful, benevolent, generous angel looking down on everyone from… well, wherever she is. 

Leaving the lighthouse that night, Ali realizes that it will take many more eternims to follow the goings on of all her friends and family. “I’m going to need some eternims,” Ali announces to Caty during the short drive back to her house, “and I was hoping you would lend them to me.” 

“Of course. What do you need them for?” Caty replies. 

“Well,” says Ali, “I want to spend some more time at the ODs.”

“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Caty asks, genuinely concerned. “Maybe it would be a better use of your time to think about an avocation?”

Ali has prepared herself for Caty’s response, though, and is ready with a convincing counterargument. “The thing is, Caty, since I died pretty suddenly, I think it would help if I could make peace with the people back on Earth, you know? I promise it won’t be forever,” she says. 

Caty thinks for a second, and then nods. “Whatever time you need, you should take,” Caty says finally. In addition, Caty agrees to provide Ali with the money. 

Properly funded with twenty-four eternims a day, Ali establishes a routine. The OD  is close enough to Caty’s house that Ali can walk there. She arrives every morning when it opens and stays every night until it closes.

Ali continues wearing the nightgown she wore on the SS Nile. She still it them as much as ever, but she doesn’t want anything new. She sleeps in the pajamas as well, removing them only twice a week to wash them. 

Ali usually spreads out her two hours of OD time over the whole day, but sometimes she splurges and uses a couple eternims at a time. If something particularly interesting is happening, she spends them all at once. 

A typical day is as follows: fifteen minutes watching her parents in the morning (2 eternims), five minutes making sure Kyle is still alive (1 eternim), forty-five minutes watching daily practice (9 eternims), a half hour with Brent at the end of the day (6 eternims), and the remaining half-hour (six eternims) at her discretion.

Ali, as much as she hates to admit it, likes when her team talks about her. At first, practices are really just emotional bonding and a lot of talking about feelings, and it slowly returns to play just before the semi-final game. Caroline, a young, talented freshman takes Ali’s role as center-mid, and becomes increasingly frustrated as she fails to connect with the team. “Hey, it’s okay,” Ali watched Tiff tell the girl one day after practice. She was crying alone in the locker room, her head buried in her hands. “No one will ever be able to replace Ali,” she had said, “but you’re the best person to play her position, right? You can’t expect yourself to jump out there and play like her. It’ll take time, but you’ll get it.” Ali could see Tiff tear up at the mention of her name before the lenses clicked shut. 

Kyle seems to be doing okay. He stopped with the heroin, and was off to doing drugs that Ali didn’t even recognize. They must be different on the West Coast, she figures.

Ally finally returned back to school after her parents practically begged her. “I’m only doing it because Ali would want me to,” she had said to her parents before slowly walking to the bus stop. Ali worries about her the most—how is a kid that young supposed to deal with her role-model dying so suddenly?

Ali is at the OD so often, she becomes familiar with the regulars.

There are the old ladies who knit, taking a casual peek in the binoculars every hour or so.

There are the frantic young mothers with their seemingly endless supplies of coins. The mothers remind Ali of slot-machine players she had once seen on a summer vacation to Atlantic City. 

There are the businessmen who shout directions at the binoculars as if anyone back on Earth could hear them anyway. Ali is reminded of her father watching a soccer game and the hilarious way he would yell at the television.

There is a girl about the same age as Ali who comes once a week, on Thursday nights. Even though she comes at night, she is always wearing dark sunglasses that remind Ali of the raybans she had at home. Her hair is so bleached that it almost appears to be white, and the white-blonde waves cascade down to a sleeve of tattoos that cover her left arm. She always sits at binoculars #19, and keeps precisely 12 eternims in her pocket to use. On each visit, she stays one hour, no longer, and then leaves. 

One night, Ali decides to talk to her. “Who are you here to see?” she asks. 

“My wife,” the girl says with a sigh, turning towards Ali. 

Ali looks at her with confusion. Isn’t she too young to be married?

“Is there a problem with that?” the girl asks gently, her voice higher and softer than Ali imagined it would be, and slightly troubled by the way Ali is looking at her. 

“Oh god, no. No. I’m sorry, it’s just—aren’t you a little young to be married?”

The girl looks relieved. “I wasn’t always this young.” She smiles sadly. 

“Lucky you,” Ali says as she watches the girl walk away. “See you next Thursday,” she whispers too softly for her to hear.

As Ali is now spending all day, every day, at the OD, she becomes aware of just how uncomfortable the binoculars’ metal stools are. On her way out one evening, she asks Michael about them. 

“Well, Ali,” Michael says, tilting his head sideways with a smirk, “when chairs are uncomfortable, it’s usually a sign that you’ve been sitting in them too long.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated!!! If you guys have questions or want something added to the plot I'll try to do my best lol :)


	7. Going Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali returns to soccer and reaches out to Hope.

The next day, Caty opens Ali’s curtains bright and early at seven. “Alexandra, you are going out today,” she announces. 

“I am going out,” Ali whines.

“Oh really, where?”

“OD,” Ali mumbles. 

“You can do that tomorrow. Today, you’re taking the car, and doing something.”   


“I don’t have a license,” Ali protests. 

Caty flings a plastic card at Ali. It looks like any ordinary drivers license that you would find on Earth, complete with Ali’s new birthday of April 14th and her picture. “They honor your license that you got on Earth, it just takes a few days for it to come in the mail. Any more excuses?”

Ali groans as she dramatically flops out of bed. Just to please Caty, she decides to finally get some new clothes, and maybe even look for some soccer gear. She wonders if Elsewhere carries Nike. 

Caty gives her directions to the mall, and Ali is on her way. Driving feels eerily familiar, and it almost gives her a little sense of home. At the mall, she quickly finds a parking spot and immediately heads for the sporting goods store she finds on a map. Elsewhere does carry Nike, she quickly finds out as she finds the exact boots that she had on Earth. Ali searches for her size, and is a bit confused when she pulls out a size 7 only to find that they look like they are made for children. “Here, try a 4.25,” a young teenager says, handing her a box. “I’m assuming you haven’t been shopping yet, the sizes here are a little bit different. Smaller numbers are bigger, bigger numbers are smaller. It’s kind of dumb, but it makes more sense once you start becoming a kid again.” He smiles before returning to his spot behind the counter. Ali tries the 4.25’s and suddenly, she feels at home again. The cleats stretch up to her ankles, and they are the same dark navy and white that she had played with at Penn State. She smiles as she puts them back in the box, carefully tucking it under her arm before going to find other necessities. 

The mall is just like any other mall. There is a carousel in the middle, a food court, lines and lines of overpriced boutiques, and lots of specialty stores. One store is like a surf shop, and Ali’s eyes wander over to the diving equipment as she remembers everything she had heard about the Well. She doesn’t have much of a desire to make contact any more, but the thought of going there still intrigued her.

Ali ends the trip with 3 pairs of spandex, 3 pairs of athletic shorts, 2 dri-fit shirts, 2 tank-tops, 4 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of jeans, 2 simples blouses, 2 dresses, 1 pair of sandals, 1 pair of sneakers, 1 pair of cleats, 1 set of shin-guards, some new bra’s and underwear, 6 postcards showcasing the island of Elsewhere, and a small, keepsake snow globe that had the SS Nile over blue water with glittery snow surrounding it. Ali wonders if it really snows on Elsewhere as she puts the globe on her dresser after she returns home. 

“Well look at you,” says Caty as Ali enters the house with 4 shopping bags in hand. “It’s almost like you want to look like a real person.”   


“Can you really consider me a real person when we’re dead?” Ali asks, quirking her eyebrow towards Caty. 

“Fair point,” Caty says with a chuckle. Caty moves into Ali’s room to help her unpack everything she had bought. “So, you thinking of going to play?” she asks, removing the cleats from the bag. 

“No,” Ali says defensively, grabbing the cleats, her chocolate eyes going wide. 

“Oh, so we just got cleats and shin guards and knee-high’s because we’d thought they’d be nice to have around?”  

Ali rolls her eyes. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I saw them, so I bought them,” Ali lies, knowing full well that she had intentions of buying gear before she ever got to the mall.

Ali changes into the dress and sandals later that day before sitting down to write out the postcards she had bought. Even though she knew they would never reach Earth, it felt damn good to write them. 

_ Dear Brent, _ she writes on the card with the SS Nile on the front, complete with the board walk and sunset in the background.

_ I miss you. I really wish I had gotten the chance to thank you for bringing me to the hospital. I know it didn’t end well, but I hope you’re not giving yourself too hard of a time for it. I know that’s something you would do. _

_Life is okay here, I guess. I don’t know if this is heaven. It’s certainly not hell, unless hell is having an overly concerned grandmother questioning your every move. There’s even soccer here, even though I haven’t played quite yet._ _  
__I’m sad that you couldn’t make it to my funeral. You didn’t miss much, but it would have been nice to see you sitting there with my family. It probably was just too much for you, I get it. It’s nice to see that you’re still doing well in school and football though. Hopefully I can watch you play a little bit._

_ Just know, Brent, that I am always watching over you. Literally. I love you, and miss you, and hopefully, I can see you again one day.  _

_ Much Love, _

_ Ali _

Later, Ali puts postage on the postcards and sends all of them in the mail. She doesn’t address them, but she doesn’t put a return address on them either, so she just pretends that they all somehow make their way down to Earth. 

Back at the ODs, Ali is starting to be frustrated with viewing her life in five-minute chunks. As soon as she gets involved in watching one story, the binoculars click closed. She feels like she is always missing something. For example, the semi-final game of the NCAA tournament is coming up, and Ali is intrigued by watching the practices, seeing who is playing where and what her coach’s plans are. Ali is looking forward to the game, and would really prefer to see the whole thing, uninterrupted. Maybe if she had forty-eight eternims instead of twenty-four, she could keep up better? She decides to ask Caty for more eternims. 

“Caty, I could really use a couple more eternims each day.” 

“How many did you have in mind?” Caty asks. 

“I was thinking, maybe forty-eight a day.”   


“ That’s starting to be a lot, honey.”

“I’ll pay you back eventually,” Ali promises.

“It’s not the eternims. I just worry about you spending so much time at the Observation Decks.”

“You’re not my mother, you know. You’re barely older than me.”

“I know, Ali, but I still worry.”

Ali takes a deep breath before returning to her room and lying on the bed. As she lies there, she decides to skip the ODs for three days in order to save up the eternims for the game. This is a great sacrifice. Lacking any real friends or any other diversions, she decides to finally go pay Michael a visit at the fields early the next morning. 

“Oh look, the superstar herself decided to pay us a visit,” Michael says with a smirk. “How are you doing?” he asks, pulling her into a side hug. 

“I gave up the ODs for three days, so now I’m here,” Ali says plainly. Ali is dressed in the soccer gear she had bought, and the same navy dri-fit shirt she would wear for practices at State, sans the Nittany Lion logo.

“Well I’m glad, we are going to need a decent midfielder to keep up with her,” Michael says, pointing out Christie who is playing for the other team in the pickup game they had put together. Christie spots Ali, and momentarily waves and smiles before turning back to her team. Michael tosses Ali a bib, and they take the field. The field is nicer than any field she had played on on Earth. The grass is a deep green and is nicely trimmed, and the surface is perfectly even. 

Ali is surprised by the fact that they have enough people to play a full eleven-on-eleven game. And it was a good game, too at that. The keeper behind Ali is shouting directions, and Ali falls right back into the rhythm of her game. At the end of the 60 minutes of regulation time (“It's 90 degrees out, we don’t need anyone passing out past 60,” Christie had said at the beginning of the game), the teams line up for penalty kicks. Ali quickly realizes that the opposing keeper is the blonde that shows up at the ODs every Thursday. She is quiet and steady, and continuously makes save after save. Ali misses her shot against her. The girl easily picks up the ball flying towards the upper left corner, and comes down looking like she hadn’t needed to make any effort.

At the end of the game, Ali sits down with Michael. “That keeper is really good.” 

“The blonde?” he asks. Ali nods her head. “Yeah. We don’t know much about her, but she’s on my league team. Super athletic. I think her name is Ashton maybe? Who knows, all I know is that she keeps the ball out of the net, so I’m cool with that.” Ali nods her head. 

“She comes to the OD every Thursday,” Ali says. Michael takes a sip of water before replying. 

“Yeah, she used to be an addict, just like you,” he says, nudging her arm. 

“Hey!” Ali says with a laugh, her eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m not an addict!”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Tell that to the guy that watches you sit there every. Single. Day.”

“Okay fair.” She laughs before asking, “So how would I join a league team?”

—

Two days later, Ali watches Penn State lose in the semis. “GO!” she shouts as a through-ball comes in just beyond the 6 yard line. The forward on her team slides in, and sends the ball just to the side of the post. “Ugh,” Ali groans, not taking her eyes away from the binoculars. 

“Everything alright?” Michael asks, looking up from his book in the attendant’s station. He had agreed to stay past normal hours to allow Ali to watch the game.

“Yeah, everything’s great except for the fact that my team is forgetting how to fucking play soccer.”

“I’m sure it’d be different if you were there,” Michael says encouragingly. 

“Not helping.” Ali momentarily looks up to shoot him a glare. 

Michael defensively puts his hands up before returning to his book. Once Oregon scores their third goal to put the score up three-to-zero in the 78th minute, Ali decides to take a break to check on Kyle.

She finds Kyle curled up in the corner of what appears to be an alley, dry heaving and screaming. His arms are black and blue with bruises, and there is something coming out of his mouth. What’s more disturbing to Ali, however, is the faint light that keeps flashing from Kyle’s chest. Every time his breathing hitches, the light seems to pull out from the very center of him, and his eyes roll back in his head. 

_ So this is what it looks like to die, _ Ali thinks.  _ A soul isn’t a ghost, it’s a freaking light. _

Ali gets up from the stool and walks over to Michael. 

“How do you make Contact?” Ali asks.

“Excuse me?”

“You know damn well what I said. How do you make Contact?”

“Why in the hell would you want to make Contact? Nothing good is going to come out of talking to the living. It’s just going to screw you, and them, up. Aren’t there like 10 minutes left of the game?”

“We lost. And I’m making Contact with or without your help. So why don’t you just give me a line here.”

Michael once again puts his hands up defensively. “I’m not your guy, sorry.”

So Ali is forced to find someone else. She can’t ask Caty, who is already worried enough about her. Or Lauren, how is probably angry at her for not returning her calls. Or Christie, who would never in a million years help Ali make Contact. Only one person might help her, and that was Hope. Unfortunately, Ali hadn’t even heard of her since last seeing her in the Department of Last Words. 

Ali decides to brave calling Lauren, who now works at a television station as an announcer. She reads the names of upcoming arrivals to Elsewhere so that people know to go to the Elsewhere pier to greet them. Ali thinks Lauren might know of Hope’s whereabouts.

“Why do you want to talk to her?” Lauren asks. Her voice is slightly hostile, which takes Ali aback. 

“I need her help for something,” Ali asks. “I need an older person’s help,” she clarifies, hoping Lauren wouldn’t question why Ali couldn’t just use her. 

“I think she fishes now.”

_ A fisherman? _ Ali thinks. Fishing doesn’t seem like Hope’s cup of tea, but she goes with it. “Okay. Well, thanks for the information.”   


“You’re welcome,” Lauren replies. “But you know, Ali, it isn’t right that you don’t return a person’s call for weeks and weeks, and when you finally get it in your head to call, you’re only asking about someone else. No apology. Not even a single ‘How are you doing, Lauren?’”

“I’m sorry Lauren. How are you?” Ali asks, guilt apparent in her voice.

“Fine,” Lauren answers.

“I’ve been having a really difficult time, I’m sorry for not returning your calls.”

“You think it’s been easy for any of us? Sorry Ali, but you’ve got to get back at life sometime,” Lauren says before hanging up.

The next day, Ali takes Caty’s car down to the Elsewhere docks, where, sure enough, she spots Hope, clad in a faded red plaid shirt and overalls, her skin a shade darker than it was when they arrived. She smiles as soon as she sees Ali. 

“Hey, Al,” she says. “So how is being six feet under treating you?” Hope is obviously still as blunt as ever. 

“I wanted to ask you a question,” says Ali.

“Well, shoot.”

Ali lowers her voice. “I need to make Contact with someone. Can you help me?”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Hope asks. Ali is prepared for this question, and is armed with several appropriate lies. 

“I’m not obsessed or anything. I like it here, Hope. I just have one thing back on Earth that needs taking care of.”   


“What is it?” 

“My family just needs to know something personal.”

Hope is silent for a moment. “Well fuck, I didn’t take you to be a soppy, ‘I need to tell them I loved them type.” She pauses before continuing. “I have heard that there are two ways to communicate with the living. One, you can try to find a ship back to Earth, although I doubt this would be a very practical solution for you. It takes a long time to get there, and , from what I hear, tends to mess up the reverse-aging process. Plus, you don’t exactly want to be a ghost, do you?”

Ali shakes her head, remembering how she contemplated that very thing on the day she arrived in Elsewhere. “What’s the second way?”

“I have heard of a place, about a mile out to sea and several miles deep. Apparently, this is the deepest place in the ocean. People call it the Well.”

Ali remembers Christie mentioning the Well on her first day in Elsewhere. She also remembers her saying that going there was forbidden. “I think I’ve heard of it,” Ali says. 

“Supposedly, if you can reach the bottom of this place, which is pretty damn hard, you will find a window where you can penetrate to Earth.”

“But how is that different than the ODs?”

“The binoculars only go one way. At the Well, they say the living can sense you, see you, hear you.”

“Do you think I can talk to them?”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Hope says, taking a sip of coffee before offering it to Ali.

Ali is pretty sure it’s spiked, but she takes a long sip of the warm drink anyway. “Thank you,” Ali says, handing the cup back to Hope.

“Just be careful, don’t do anything stupid,” Hope says before Ali gets up to return home. Ali nods in acknowledgement. As she walks away from the dock, she realizes that she forgot to ask Hope why she had become a fisherman in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry I haven't been updating either of my stories recently. Life gets in the way sometimes :( A chapter of "The Great Escape" should be up tomorrow or Saturday at the latest, I promise! 
> 
> This story will get moving soon, comments are appreciated!


	8. Wandering and Whistling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali finally meets a certain blonde and prepares for Christmas.

Ali throws herself into preparations for the big dive. Although she hadn’t noticed at the time, her daily routine at the OD had become less and less satisfying: each day blending into the one before it, bleary images that seemed to become blearier and blearier, her eyes strained, her back sore. The only new advances were that Brent was seeing a new girl, which felt weird considering they had never formally broken up, and Kyle had seemed to cease his “activities”, as Ali liked to call them. Ali hated the word drugs, all it did was remind her of the person Kyle had become. 

Ali now experiences the renewed energy of a person with a  _ mission _ . Her walk is faster. Her heart pumps more strongly. Her appetite increases. She rises early and goes to bed late. For the first time since arriving in Elsewhere, Ali feels almost, well, alive. 

Hope had said that the Well was “a mile out to sea,” but she hadn’t specified exactly where. After two days of eavesdropping at the ODs and indirectly questioning Michael, Ali finds out that the Well is thought to be somehow linked to the lighthouses and the ODs and that, to get there, she needs to swim in the path of one of the lighthouses’ beams. 

To buy the diving equipment, Ali “borrows” another 750 eternims from Caty. 

“What do you need them for?” Caty asks.

“More clothes, maybe a second pair of cleats to play on the turf field,” Ali lies, “I promise I’ll pay you back.”

Caty gives her a questioning look before pressing the eternims into Ali’s hands. “I hope you’re not going to use this at the OD,” Caty says. 

“I’m not,” Ali says, for once not having to lie. 

Ali buys a small, light diving tank at the advice of the store owner. It’s called an Infinity Tank, and the owner promises Ali that it will never run out of oxygen. She also purchases a wetsuit, that the store manager informs her will get big as she starts getting smaller. As a nod to Caty, Ali also buys a second pair of cleats and a t-shirt. 

Ali hides the equipment underneath her bed. She feels guilty about lying to Caty but deems the lies necessary evils. She had considered telling Caty about the dive but knew that she would only worry. She doesn’t need Caty worrying any more than she already does, Ali decides. 

Ali hadn’t dived since she was 11 years old with her parents in the Bahama’s, but she decides against taking a practice dive, which would only open up more opportunity for Caty to realize what she was doing. 

Because going to the Well is forbidden, Ali decides to leave just after sunset. She packs her equipment in a large garbage bag and wears her wet suit under a pair of jeans and her new t-shirt.

“Is that what you bought today?” Caty asks.

Ali nods.

“You look nice.” Caty moves to touch Ali’s shoulder, but she pulls away before her grandmother can feel the wetsuit that she is hiding underneath. 

“Yeah, I’m going to a party Lauren is throwing, I have all the stuff I was assigned to bring in here,” Ali lies, pointing towards the garbage bag. 

“Well have a good time!” Caty smiles at Ali. 

Ali finds telling lies easy now that she’s started. The only problem with lies, Ali discovers, is that she has to keep telling more and more of them as she goes on.

Before driving, Ali returns to the OD for a finally look at her family on Christmas Eve-Eve-Eve-Eve-Eve . It was a tongue twisting tradition, that the Kriegers got together on this day every year. 

From behind the glass, Michael frowns. “You haven’t been here or on the field for a few days, I was afraid you disappeared.” Ali rolls her eyes at her friend before continuing to binoculars #22. First she looks at her family, as they sit down for dinner. They sit down before realizing Ali’s chair is empty. Ali’s uncle awkwardly gets up to remove the extra chair before Ally starts crying. The lenses click shut right after Ali’s Aunt and Uncle apologize for their daughter and usher her outside. 

Next, Ali inserts an enternim to look at Kyle, who is yet again passed out in the back of a different car. Ali looks at his face, and yet again, she sees the light poking out of his chest. She is too disturbed to continue, and gets up before her time is up. “I hope you’re not up to anything stupid, Krieger!” Michael shouts before Ali flashes a middle finger at him. 

Outside, the beach is deserted. Ali takes off her jeans and t-shirt, but she isn’t quick to get in the water to begin her dive. She just sits, thinking about the possibility of Kyle joining her in Elsewhere. She quickly scolds herself for even thinking about it.  _ Do you really want your best friend dead, Ali? Will that really make you feel better? _

Just before she stands up, she hears a familiar voice call out of the darkness. “What are you doing there?” Ali freezes in her place, not wanting to make a single move. “I mean, it might just be me, but nighttime isn’t the ideal time to go scuba diving, you can’t see a thing. Don’t you think? Don’t you want to be able to appreciate all of the colors of the reef?” Ali slowly turns around, meeting the sight of a figure in the sand. “Come over here, take a seat. I don’t bite,” the figure says. 

Ali carefully maneuvers herself out of the water.  _ Do they have serial killers here? _ she wonders _. What would even happen if you got murdered? Can you get murdered? _

As she draws closer to the figure, she realizes it’s the blonde that showed up at the OD every Thursday night, who probably thought she was a giant homophobe after their short conversation. “So why are you taking a dive at 10 p.m.?” the girl asks. 

“Why are you sitting on the beach alone at 10 p.m.?” Ali retorts back. Ali drops down into the sand next to the girl before turning her head to get a better look at her. 

Her face is lightly freckled, probably from being out in the sun, she figures. Her eyes are a light hazel, and she doesn’t wear much makeup. Her white-blonde hair is up in a bun, with a few errant waves falling out of it. She is wearing a loose tank top and cotton shorts, and Ali immediately wants to know more about her. 

“Fair question. I’m Ashlyn, just by the way.”

“Ali,” Ali replies, sticking out her hand. “Nice to finally actually meet you.” 

Ashlyn accepts her hand, shaking it firmly before turning back towards the water. “To answer your question, I ended up here because of a surfing accident.” 

“Oh god, are you alright?” Ali asks, examining her for any obvious injury. 

Ashlyn looks confused for a second before she realizes Ali’s mistake. “Oh, no. I mean I ended up  _ here _ , like Elsewhere, because of a surfing accident. I died surfing.” 

“Oh.” Ali turns to look at the water, trying to avoid Ashlyn’s glance. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re on the beach this late.”

“Well you still didn’t explain why you’re trying to dive this late, let alone just sit on the beach.” Now Ashlyn is the one in control.

Ali suddenly feels a rush of courage, and tells Ashlyn why she’s trying to dive.. “My brother—he’s not doing good. He’s an addict. I need to tell my family how bad he is before, he, um, you know…”   


Ashlyn nods in understanding. “I get it.” She looks down at the sand before speaking again. “To answer your original question, I died doing my favorite thing, with my favorite person, and I still haven’t quite forgiven whatever power controlled that.” Ali nods, encouraging her to go on. “My wife—Kelley—Kelley and I were out on the water, and a shark got my arm. I don’t remember much, but ever since then—ever since I died, I mean—I just can’t get myself to watch or go surfing. Swimming? Fine. Diving? Great. But I just can’t get myself to go back on a board. I need to be able to see exactly what’s around me. So every night I come here, with the board in my truck, hoping that I’ll get up the courage to go out. But I never do. So here I sit.”

Ali isn’t sure how to respond to that, so she sits silently in the sand, waiting for Ashlyn to say something. But after several more minutes of silence pass, she realizes that Ashlyn would probably be content to sit here all night. “Do you miss Kelley?”

Ashlyn smiles a little bit. “Yeah. I mean, when I first got here, I was obsessed with her whereabouts, how she was doing, and I was terrified the first time she went surfing without me. But now it’s just once a week I see her. If I don’t control myself, I know I’ll get obsessed again.”

“How did you ever stop worrying?”

“You know, I found the best solution to not worrying about home is getting a dog and an avocation, you got either of those?” Ashlyn asks, her bright eyes turning to meet Ali’s under the moonlight.

—

The next morning, on the way to the animal shelter, Ali calls Christie. 

“Is that job still available?” asks Ali.

“First of all, it’s not a job,” Christie says, “it’s an avocation. Second of all, it is, and it would pick right up after the Christmas Break.”

Christie gives Ali all of the information she needs, and Ali thanks her and hangs up before wandering into the shelter.

Ali wants a big dog, she tells herself. Back home, she had a Golden Retriever named Doug. She actually missed the crazy dog just a little bit. Kyle and Ali had picked Doug out of a litter that their parents had brought them to when Ali was 10, and he was always on the sidelines of their soccer games, barking wildly whenever the crowd would get loud. Kyle’s job was to feed him, and Ali’s job was to walk him, and together, they were like the three musketeers. 

So when Ali first sees a large, older German Shepherd, she decides he is perfect. “Hi buddy,” she says, scratching behind his ears the same way Doug liked to be scratched. “I wish you could tell me your name.” All of the dogs don’t have names at the shelter, but they presumably once had names when they were back on Earth. Which is why Ali has such a hard time picking out a name for the dog once she signs all of the paperwork and whatnot. She takes the dog out on a bright, new red leash attached to a matching red collar. Suddenly, she gets it. “Roo,” she says. It’s the name her cousin Ally had given the stuffed dog Ali gave to her all those years ago, and Ali thinks of the name as a little homage to her cousin. The dog barks and pants, seemingly happy with the name.

When Ali gets back to the house, Caty immediately jumps out to greet the dog. “Oh my goodness, we’re dog sitting now?” she says. “Hi buddy, what’s his name, who does he belong to?” She looks up at Ali with a smile.    


“Well, his name is Roo, and he belongs to, well,  _ us _ ?” Ali says it cautiously. She never really mentioned getting a dog to Caty. 

“Oh my god, he is just adorable, this will be so fun!” Caty says, opening the large door to the dog. 

Roo sniffs around the house before returning to Ali. Ali crouches on the ground, and Roo puts a single paw on her shoulder, almost as if to give her a hug. Ashlyn was right—a dog was a good, good decision.

The next day, Christmas Eve-Eve-Eve, Ali goes to her first practice with the League. It is decided by the Captains that she will join Michael’s team, which includes Ashlyn. They spend half of the practice conditioning, and half the practice doing drills and actually playing. At the end of practice, while stretching, Michael introduces Ali to the team. “This is Skylar, he actually just recently joined too,” Michael says, pointing out a young kid, probably even younger than Ali. He has dark skin and long, muscular legs. His eyes are bright and his smile is big. “How old are you Sky?” 

“18-2, life’s a bitch ain’t it,” he says smiling towards Ali, already feeling like dying young gave them a sort of mutual understanding. “Nice to meet you.” 

“And this is—”   


"LAUREN,” Ali says, jumping up from her spot on the ground to grab her friend. “Oh my god, it’s so nice to see you. I didn’t even recognize you without your curls,” Ali says, pointing towards her newly straightened, long hair. “I’m so sorry about everything, I—”  
Lauren interrupts her. “No, I’m sorry, I overreacted. This is a big adjustment. I was just lonely and upset, I hope you can understand. Friends?” she says, extending her hand towards Ali. 

“Friends,” Ali agrees, pulling her in for a hug. 

Michael goes on to introduce Ali to a few veterans before finally moving towards Ashlyn. “And this is Ash…” He waits for Ashlyn to finish her name for him. He always forgets if it’s Ash _ ton  _ or Ash _ lyn. _

“Ashlyn,” she finishes for him. “We actually already met,” she says, smiling towards Ali. Her hair is in a messy ponytail, and she wears longsleeves and leggings in the hot weather. 

Michael smiles. “Good, considering I’m counting on the two of you to bring us home a championship this year.” Ashlyn laughs before joining Ali. 

“So I got a dog,” Ali says quietly. Ashlyn chokes on her water. 

“Seriously? That fast? Man, I wish everyone took my advice that seriously,” she says. “I have a little frenchie named Dozer,” she says, taking a polaroid out of her bag to show Ali. “What breed did you end up with?”

“A german shepherd, I think he might be mixed.”   


“Aww,” Ashlyn squeals, bringing her hands up to beneath her chin. “I love big dogs!” Ashlyn initially appeared to have a rough exterior, but it seems to Ali that dogs completely break that.    


“Yeah, he’s a sweetheart.”   


“It’s so nice having a dog around, it made a world of difference for me,” Ashlyn says. Suddenly her eyes light up. “I’m actually having a Christmas Eve party on Thursday, if you’d like to join. Feel free to bring people, especially your dog! I’m sure Dozer would love to have a friend to keep him occupied.” 

Ali pauses. She hadn’t yet made any friends in Elsewhere besides Michael, who was more of an older brother to her. Is making friends with dead people the same as making friends with alive people?

“Yeah sure, I’d love to come,” Ali responds in a moment of spontaneity. She immediately regrets it, but the smile on Ashlyn’s face makes her happy. 

“Good, I can’t wait to see you!”

On Christmas Eve-Eve, Ali goes exploring with Caty and Roo. It is the first time that she actually walked around Elsewhere, and as much as it pains her to admit it, it’s not all that bad. 

On one lawn, a boy and a girl run through the sprinklers in the hot noon sun. 

In a porch swing, a very old man, hunched and shriveled holds hands with a beautiful, young redheaded woman. Ali thinks the old man might be the woman’s grandfather until she watches the way the pair kisses. “Te amo,” the redheaded woman whispers in the old man’s ear. She gazes at the old man as if he’s the most beautiful person in the world. 

On another lawn, two boys of about the same age play catch with a worn-out baseball. “Should we go put sunscreen on? It’s really bright out.” The one boy pauses to wait for a response. 

“No way, Dad,” the other boy answers, “let’s keep playing.”

“Yeah, let’s play all day!” the first boy replies. 

And so Ali really looks at Caty’s street for the first time. 

They stop outside Caty’s brownstone, which is painted a bold shade of purple. As strange as it may seem, Ali has never really noticed this before.

The warm air is thick with perfume from Caty’s flowers. The scent, Ali thinks, is sweet and melancholy. A bit like dying, a bit like falling in love.

“I’m not going to the ODs anymore, Caty. I’m going to start my avocation in less than two weeks, and then I’m paying you back everything, I promise,” Ali says.

Caty looks in Ali’s eyes. “I believe you.” Caty takes Ali’s hand in hers. “And I really appreciate that.”   


“I’m sorry about the money.” Ali shakes her head. “All this time, I don’t know if you’ve noticed… The thing is, I think I may have been a little  _ depressed _ .”

“I know, honey, I know.”

“Caty,” Ali asks, “why have you put up with me for so long?”

“At first, for Debbie I suppose,” Caty answers after a moment’s reflection. “You look so much like her.” 

“No one wants to be liked for who their mother is, you know,” Ali says. 

“I said, at first,” Caty replies.

“So, it wasn’t just for Mom’s sake, then?”

“Of course not. It was for your own, honey. And mine. Mainly mine. I’ve been lonely for a very long time.”

“Since you came to Elsewhere?”

“Longer than that, I’m afraid.” Caty pauses, and reaches down to pet Roo. “How nice it will be to finally spend Christmas with another soul.”   


“About that, we were invited to a party tomorrow night,” Ali says smiling. 

On Christmas Eve, Caty and Ali spend the day baking cookies—something Ali hasn’t done since the Christmas before her grandmother died. 

They make five batches of dough, dying each one a different color, and then make hundreds of tiny holiday-themed cookies. When they are finished baking, they wrap them in sets of 10, each topped off with a tiny red bow. “Oh how I’ve missed this,” Caty says, wrapping her arms around Ali. “You can finally reach the counter without a stool now,” Caty says, laughing.

“Yeah, I’ve grown just a little bit,” Ali says with a huge smile on her face. They place the wrapped cookies in a larger bag before retreating to get ready for the dinner at Ashlyn’s house. It is a beautiful day, with temperatures in the upper-seventies and blue skies. After Ali puts on her new red sundress and puts her hair up in a bun, she places the sparkly red bow-tie she had bought on Roo’s collar. “What a handsome guy,” she says, ruffling the dog’s ears. He barks in return before trotting over to Caty, who is wearing shorts and a nice polo, her hair also up in a bun. 

“You look gorgeous,” Caty says, smiling at her granddaughter. “All dressed up, just like the old days.”   


Ali thinks back to all of the Christmas Eve dinners she had at her grandmother’s house when she was little. She would run around with Kyle, eating cookies and playing with whatever new toys they had received. And now, they had come full circle.  _ Or was it a line? _

When Ali knocks on the door at Ashlyn’s house, she is greeted with a smile and a hug. Ashlyn is dressed in khaki shorts and red oxford, and her long blonde waves are down and around her face. “Oh my god, he’s so cute!” Ashlyn exclaims, quickly bending down to greet Roo. “Hi buddy!” she says, scratching behind his ears. She gets back up to greet Caty. “Hi, Ms…”

“Caty,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you, thank you so much for having us over,” Caty says, extending her hand to Ashlyn. Ashlyn takes it and shakes it smiling. 

“Thank you so much for coming. It’s always nice having more people join us.” 

Ashlyn opens the door, inviting the three guests inside. “Here,” Ashlyn says, taking Roo’s leash from Ali, “I’ll take him outside to play with Dozer, they can burn off some energy.”

Ali graciously gives Ashlyn his leash, and Ashlyn disappears outside. Inside the house, Ali sees both familiar and new faces, all with a drink in their hand and a smile on their face. “Ali!” she can hear from across the room.

“Michael!” Michael makes his way across the room, greeting her with a hug. 

“Wow, it’s nice to see you outside of the OD or the pitch, how have you been?” he asks. 

“I’m good, I’m good. This is my grandmother Caty, Caty this is my friend Michael.” 

Michael reaches his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you ma’am.” 

“Oh, a gentleman too. You sure he’s just a friend Alexandra?” Caty asks with a smirk. Michael busts out laughing, as does Ali. 

“Yes, a friend Caty.” Caty rolls her eyes at her granddaughter. 

“Well then. I’m going to grab a bite, and leave you two to your antics.”

Ali and Michael laugh. “The drinks are outside, do you want to go grab one?” Michael asks. 

“Yes, good god I’m pretty sure the only alcohol I’ve had since I got here was my friends spiked coffee, if that even counts.”

Outside, there are two coolers. One filled with alcohol and one filled with kids drinks. “How do they enforce drinking laws?” Ali asks Michael. “They don’t,” he replies. 

“Most people reach a point where they’re young enough that their body can’t handle it, and then they stop.” Ali nods her head.    


“Interesting.” Ali grabs a beer, and then sits down on the steps of the deck overlooking the beach. Ashlyn’s yard is relatively small, but larger than Caty’s. She plays fetch with the two dogs until she notices Ali and Michael sitting on the steps. 

“They’re already friends,” referring to the two dogs who are chasing each other in circles around the yard. Ashlyn grabs a beer and joins Ali and Michael on the steps. 

“Kelley would love this, she lived for dinner parties,” Ashlyn says, a small smile on her face. “Maybe sans the dogs though, she was so allergic to them. I begged her to get a frenchie, they’re supposedly hypoallergenic, but she always refused,” she says with a laugh. Suddenly, her eyes go wide. “Michael, is there any way you can open up the OD later tonight?”

—

After the wine is poured at dinner, Ashlyn says, “I’d like to make a short toast.” She clears her throat. “Well, we’ve all traveled a long way to get here,” she begins, trying desperately to make the fact that they were all dead on Christmas funny. The group laughs.

“Here, here!” Christie says. 

“I’m not finished yet,” Ashlyn says with a smirk. 

“Oh, I thought you said it was a short toast,” says Christie.

“Not  _ that _ short.” The group laughs.

“You did take a pause.”

“That was for effect!” Ashlyn says with a hearty laugh.

“I like short toasts,” Lauren says. “Some people go on and on, and life is just too short for that.”

“And death’s about the same length,” Michael says.

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” Ali says incredulously.

“It was,” Michael replies with a knowing smirk. 

“Well  _ anyway _ , we’ve all traveled a long way to get here, and, um, I actually forget where I was going with this…” Ashlyn blushes, then laughs. “Let’s just eat,” she says as she sits back down, smiling at the group’s antics. 

Skylar raises his glass. “Let’s toast to laughter, that’s what my family always toasted to.”

Caty smiles and agrees. “To laughter!”   


“To laughter and forgetting!” Ali mischievously adds, smirking in Ashlyn’s direction. 

The entire table choruses, and lifts their glasses before digging into the feast that Ashlyn has prepared. 

After dinner, and as people begin to leave, Ali offers to help Ashlyn with the dishes. “Something going on there?” Ashlyn asks, nodding her head towards Michael and Caty chatting in the corner of her living room. 

“No, oh god no,” Ali laughs. “That’s my  _ grandmother _ , thank you very much,” Ali says, drying off the plate Ashlyn has just handed her.

Ashlyn shrugs her shoulders. “How old is she?” 

“Almost 33,” Ali says. “Why?”

“Michael’s 29, so don’t act like my assumption is completely unrealistic.” Ashlyn smirks, and Ali looks mortified. “I’m joking, calm down,” Ashlyn says after seeing Ali’s face. 

“Sure.”

Ashlyn rolls up her sleeve as she continues washing the dishes in the soapy water. Ali gets a better look at the sleeve covering her arm. It is black and white, and absolutely beautiful. There are flowers, and feathers, and leaves, and faces of greek gods, and on the inside of her wrist, she has “Kelley” tattooed in small, looping script. 

Ali watches as she removes her wedding band, placing it carefully on the edge of the sink. Ali is still getting used to the notion that someone of her and Ashlyn’s age could be married. Of course, on Elsewhere, this is relatively commonplace. 

Ali and Ashlyn reach a satisfying rhythm of washing and drying. Ashlyn whistles a tune as she washes. Although Ali is not exactly a fan of whistling, she finds Ashlyn’s whistling, if not pleasant, tolerable. She likes the whistler, if not the whistling itself. 

Several minutes of whistling later, Ashlyn turns to Ali, “I’m taking requests.”   


“Ashlyn, that’s a really nice offer, but the thing is”—Ali pauses—”I don’t really like whistling.”

Ashlyn laughs. “But I’ve been whistling for like ten minutes. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, I figured you allowed me to eat a free dinner at your house, the least I could do is let you whistle.”   


“Maybe you’d prefer if I hummed?”

“Whistling’s fine,” Ali says.

“Hey, I’m just trying to entertain you here.” Ashlyn laughs again. After a second, Ali joins her. Although nothing particularly funny has been said, Ali and Ashlyn find they cannot stop laughing. Ali has to stop drying the dishes and sit down. It has been such a long time since Ali has laughed this hard. She tries to remember the last time. 

The week before Ali died, she and Brent had been sitting in a hospital room after Ali’s leg break had been repaired. The surgeon had just come in to inform Ali that they had to place a rod down her calf, something that was not planned going into the surgery. Ali was disappointed to hear that her recovery would be more complicated and take a bit longer, but Brent, being ever the optimist, made a joke.    


“You could probably break ankles with that thing and get off with only a yellow now.” For some reason, the comment struck both of them as being ridiculously funny. They laughed so long and so loudly that a nurse came in to make sure everything was alright. That had been a little over a month ago. Had it really been that long since Ali has laughed that hard?”

“What’s wrong?” Ashlyn asks. 

“I was thinking that it had been a long time since I laughed like that,” Ali says. “I was with my boyfriend, Brent. It wasn’t even anything very funny, you know?”

Ashlyn nods. “The best laughs are like that.” She washes the last plate and hands it to Ali to dry. She turns off the water and replaces the ring on her finger. 

“I guess I’m a little homesick,” Ali admits, “but it’s the worst kind of homesickness because I know I can’t ever go back there or see them ever again.” 

“That doesn’t just happen to people in Elsewhere, Ali,” says Ashlyn. “Even on Earth, it’s difficult to ever go back to the same places or people. You turn away, even for a moment, and when you turn back around, everything’s changed.”

Ali nods. “I try not to think about it, but sometimes it hits me all at once. Woosh! And I remember I’m dead.”

“You should know that you’re doing really well, Ali,” says Ashlyn. “I’m gonna go get Michael and head to the OD, you in?”

The three of them, five of them if you count Roo and Dozer, walk over to the OD around 11. Ali sits at her usual #22 binoculars, and Ashlyn at her usual #19. For once, Michael even takes a seat, taking #20 right between the two of them. 

Ali first looks at her mom and dad, who are both sitting in front of the television, watching “A Christmas Story,” looking completely lifeless. When her five minutes is up, she moves onto Kyle, who, unsurprisingly, is passed out in the back of a car. What’s new. But something is different. The usually dull light peeking out of his chest is bright, and penetrating farther than she had ever seen it before. Suddenly, she is filled with worry. Before she can worry too much, she moves onto Ally. Ally is in her room, sitting silently in her new pajamas, a tradition that her parents had started with her when she was very young. “I wish I could see Ali,” she says to the small stuffed dog, stroking it’s old and worn back. “I know I’m too old to be talking to a stuffed animal, but you’re all I have left of her.” 

Ali’s heart catches in her throat. She suddenly remembers that she had bought Ali a small gold bracelet, engraved with A 2 on the back. It was in a box under the floorboard of her Aunt and Uncle’s storage closet. She had put it there so she wouldn’t forget to give it to Ally on Christmas. Suddenly, she has to resist the urge to run to the well. 

“Well, I’m all good. Are you guys ready to head out?” Michael asks, getting up and stretching. 

“Yeah. It looks like Kelley had a nice Christmas Eve. She finally went to Christmas Eve dinner with my family this year, she had been too sad to go since I had died.”   


Ali nods. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! :) TGE tonight or tomorrow, I promise!!!


	9. The Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali (unsuccessfully) tends to some unfinished business.

On Christmas, Ali wakes up to the smell of pancakes and bacon cooking. She wanders out of her room, wearing gingerbread man pajamas that Caty had given her as a gift the night before. “Merry Christmas!” Caty says, dropping the last pancake on a plate. “I hope you still like pancakes and bacon.”

Ali smiles. “Of course I do, thank you so much for making this,” Ali says before hugging her grandmother. Caty smiles; she had missed her granddaughter so much and she hadn’t even realized it. They sit down for breakfast, feeding Roo tiny scraps of food before pouring him his own bowl of kibble.    


“Merry Christmas,” Caty says, pushing a small box wrapped in gold paper and a red bow towards Ali. “It’s not much, but I think you’ll like it.” Inside is a polaroid camera and enough sheets to last Ali what she thinks is years. 

“Oh my god, I’ve always wanted one of these!” Ali says, reaching over to hug Caty. “This is absolutely perfect, thank you so much,” she says, releasing her grandmother. 

“This is for you,” Ali says, pulling out a small box from her pocket. It is wrapped in bright red paper, with a small silver bow on top. 

Caty unwraps it and opens the box to reveal a small, gold heart-shaped locket, complete with a picture of her and Kyle as small kids inside. Catherine had one almost identical to it on Earth, and it was one of her most treasured possessions. “Oh my goodness Alexandra,” she says, looking at the picture. “This is beautiful, how did you even get the picture?” Ali shrugs. The truth is, getting the picture required a lot of eternims and searching her childhood house with the binoculars before employing the use of Michael and his camera to snap a picture at just the right angle through the binoculars before time ran out. It was a lot, but well worth it. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ali says with a smile. “Merry Christmas.” She gets up to help put the locket around Caty’s neck, and then hugs her grandmother once more. 

The day is quiet. Caty and Ali stay inside, with Roo cuddled in between them as they watch reruns of classic Christmas movies on one of the three channels Elsewhere provides. Later, they play board games, Ali growing increasingly frustrated every time Caty wins (“You used to let me win!” she would exclaim. “What happened to that?!”). By sunset, she has hatched a plan to go to the Well: she would tell Caty she was going to visit with Ashlyn, who she knows is at work from the conversation they had the night before. It was perfect because she knows Ashlyn isn’t at the beach, and she is positive that no one else would be there. She has to a.) find Kyle and tell him to get his shit together before he dies, and b.) make sure Ally gets her bracelet. 

At 10, Caty retires to her room. “Merry Christmas, Ali, tell Ashlyn I said hello.” She closes the door behind her, and Ali immediately runs to her room to grab the dive equipment. 

By 10:30, Ali is at the beach, and is already making her way into the water, exactly as Hope had explained to her a few weeks earlier. Before she begins to swim, she checks the gauge on her Infinity Tank one last time in the moonlight.

The deeper Ali dives, the darker the water becomes. Ali feels comfort in the feeling of being surrounded by the cold, dark blue water. She misses the ocean from home and the feeling that come with it.  All around her, Ali senses the presence of other people. Presumably, they are also going to the Well. Occasionally, she discerns indistinct shapes or odd rustlings, lending her descent an eerie, almost haunted feeling. 

Finally, Ali reaches the Well. It is the saddest, quietest place she has ever been. It looks like an open drain at the bottom of a sink. Intense light pours out of the opening—the same color light that has been coming out of Kyle’s chest. Ali peers over the edge, into the light. She can see her Aunt and Uncle’s house on the little suburban street tucked away just outside of Alexandria. The house appears faded, like a watercolor painting left in the sun. Ally is sitting awake in her bed, and her parents are sitting in the kitchen, talking about the plans for New Years. 

Ali speaks into the Well. Her voice sounds garbled from being underwater. She knows she has to choose her words carefully, if she is to be understood. “THIS IS ALI. LOOK UNDER THE CLOSET FLOORBOARDS. THIS IS ALI. LOOK UNDER THE CLOSET FLOORBOARDS.”

At her Aunt and Uncle’s house, all the faucets simultaneously turn on: Ally gets up out of her bed from confusion, and goes downstairs to see her mother and father furiously turning all of the faucets off. “That’s odd,” Ally’s mother says, reaching for the handle to the kitchen sink. 

“Must be something wrong with the plumbing,” Ali’s uncle says. Only Ally remains, standing in the center of the downstairs space. She hears the faintest high-pitched something coming from the faucets, though he isn’t able to identify what it is. From the Well, Ali watches her push her hair back behind his ears. 

Having turned off all the faucets, Ali’s Aunt and Uncle return to the table. About five seconds later, the water starts up all over again. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Ali’s Uncle says, standing to turn off the water for the second time. 

Ali’s Aunt is about to stand when suddenly Ally has an outburst. “STOP!” she yells, louder than she had been in the month following Ali’s death. 

“What is it?” Ally’s mother asks. 

“Be quiet,” Ally says with remarkable authority for a person of twelve, “and don’t touch the sink.”

“Why?” her parents ask in unison.

“It’s Ali,” Ally says quietly. “I think I can hear her.” At this point, tears start to form in Ali’s Aunt’s eyes and her Uncle looks plain angry.

Ally puts her ear up to the spigot. She can just make out Ali’s voice.

“ALLY IT’S ALI. THERE’S SOMETHING FOR YOU UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS IN THE STORAGE CLOSET.”

“Okay! Are you alright?”   


Ali doesn’t get the chance to answer before the image quickly shifts to Kyle slumped against the brick wall of an alley, the light in his chest as bright as ever. “KYLE!” Ali shouts as loud as she can manage underwater.

“KYLE, GET THE FUCK UP! KYLE! IT’S ALI! YOU’RE KILLING YOURSELF KYLE, YOU’RE KILLING YOURSELF!”

Kyle stirs briefly, and his eyes squint in confusion. The spigot to the side of him suddenly turns on, but he isn’t aware enough to move before he is completely soaked. He swears he can hear his sister’s voice, but he thinks it is probably just the heroin talking.

“KYLE! YOU’RE GOING TO DIE KYLE! GET—” 

Before Ali can finish her thoughts a net falls over her, and she is pulled back toward the surface. Thrashing her arms and legs, Ali attempts to free herself. Her efforts are for naught. The more she struggles, the tighter the net seems to become. Ali quickly realizes the futility of trying to escape. She sighs, accepting her momentary defeat gracefully. At least the ascent to shore will be quicker than if she had to swim it herself.

Despite being captured, Ali is in high spirits. She is reasonably sure that her mission has been a success. Of course, no one had prepared her for the odd way one communicated from the Well: all loud faucets, Ali’s disembodied voice like an irate teapot. Is this what it means to be a ghost?

As she reaches the surface, Ali braces herself for the cool night air. Even in her expensive wet suit, she begins to shiver. Ali pulls off her diving mask and sees a white tugboat in the middle of the water. She can barely make out a tall, thin figure standing on the deck. As she is drawn closer, Ali can see the figure is wearing sunglasses, even though it is nighttime. The figure seems familiar, but Ali can’t quite place it. 

The net opens, and Ali is unceremoniously dumped onto the boat. As soon as she hits the deck, the figure immediately speaks.

“Fuck,” it says as it removes its sunglasses. It takes Ali a second to place the soft voice. Ashlyn.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” she says incredulously, handing Ali a towel. Ashlyn is dressed in full uniform, a cap on top of her hair that is in a neat, slicked back bun, and wearing pleated navy-colored pants with a stiff collared shirt. “Well, I still have to go through this whole thing,” Ashlyn says, taking a deep breath. “Alexandra Blaire Krieger, I am Detective Ashlyn M. Harris of the Elsewhere Bureau of Supernatural Crime and Contact. Are you aware that by attempting to Contact the living, you are in violation of Elsewhere law?”

“Yes,” Ali says quietly, wrapping the towel around herself as she shivers.    


“Well no shit, sherlock,” Ashlyn replies, suddenly returning to her normal, laid-back self. She hands Ali a warm blanket before wrapping an arm around her in an attempt to get her warm again. “Why the hell would you do that?”

Ali shrugs her shoulders, and Ashlyn rolls her eyes. Even though she is sympathetic towards Ali, she had already warned her once. 

“Come with me,” she says, motioning towards a large telescope mounted to the stern of the boat. “Look,” she orders Ali.

Ali obeys. The telescope works much like the binoculars on the Observation Decks. Through the eyepiece, Ali sees inside her Aunt and Uncle’s house again. Ally is kneeling in her bedroom closet, her hands feeling frantically for any loose floorboards. She keeps mumbling to herself, “She said it was in the closet.”

“Oh no!” Ali exclaims. “She’s in the wrong closet. Ally, it’s in the storage closet!” 

“She can’t hear you,” Ashlyn says. 

Through the telescope, she can see her Uncle yelling at Ally until both Ally and her mother are in tears. He slams the door behind him before finding privacy to have a cry himself.

“She’s not making it up! She just misunderstood.” Ali feels her heart racing. Next, the telescope pans over to Kyle, who is now banging his head against the brick wall, blood pouring out of his forehead. “Oh my god,” Ali gasps.

“It isn’t real, it isn’t real, she isn’t real,” he says quietly, over and over again. The more he bangs his head, the louder it gets. “SHE ISN’T REAL, SHE ISN’T REAL, SHE ISN’T REAL.” Ali starts crying just as a foghorn sounds, indicating that they have reached the marina. The telescope lens clicks shut, and Ali turns around to face Ashlyn, who looks not, mad, but disappointed with her. 

“So am I in trouble?”

“Since it was your first offense, and it is Christmas and all, mainly all you get is a warning. It goes without saying that I’ll have to tell your acclimation counselor. You have Christie, right?”

Ali nods.

“It’ll be alright. For the next six weeks, you’re banned from any observation decks, and I have to confiscate your diving gear during that time, I’m afraid.   


“That’s fine,” Ali says in a small voice. “Can I go now?”

Ashlyn sighs. “Yeah, just please don’t do this again.” Ashlyn gently wraps her arms around Ali before pulling back and returning to her station below the deck of the ship.

As she walks back to the house, Ali thinks about Ally and Kyle and her Aunt and Uncle and all the trouble she caused for her family. Heartsick and slightly damp, she realizes that Ashlyn is probably right.  _ She must think I’m so stupid, _ Ali says to herself.

Of course, Ashlyn herself doesn’t think so.

The people who worked for the bureau were, more often than not, those who had the most trouble accepting their own deaths. Although these individuals had great empathy for the lawbreakers, they understood all too well the need to be firm with the first-time Contacter. It was a dangerous thing to slip into casual Contact with the living. So it is somewhat unusual that Ashlyn Harris finds herself wondering about the small golden bracelet, and Ali’s brother. She isn’t so sure why. She supposes it is because Ali’s request was so specific. Most people who visited the Well needed to be stopped for their own good, or they would become obsessed with people on Earth. Somehow, this didn’t seem to be the case with Ali. 

What would it have hurt, really, for her cousin to get that bracelet? Or her brother to be warned of his actions? It might have made things a little easier for a 12 year old who lost her best friend and for a lovely brown-eyed girl who had died too young. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated! Thanks to everyone who has commented, it really keeps me going :) <3


	10. Ashlyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn more about Ashlyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING, this chapter goes into Ashlyn's death and gets a bit gory... I'm really sorry if this bothers anyone, but it will become essential to the story. You can in all likelihood skip this chapter and still get the whole story if gore bothers you!!!

Ashlyn Michelle Harris was born to a lower class family in Satellite Beach, Florida. Her parents were consistently enthralled with their two children, in constant awe of their raw athleticism. Christopher was older by two years, but Ashlyn learned to mature quickly in order to keep up with him. They both played soccer and baseball, and Ashlyn usually just hopped onto Chris’ teams, often being the only girl to play. 

When Ashlyn was twelve, her parents started fighting. Fights turned into screaming matches, and screaming matches turned into punches, and punches turned into 911 calls and cop cars. Ashlyn’s only escapes seemed to come in the forms of boards (skateboards, longboards, surfboards, whatever), soccer (she was a keeper, and somehow the pain of being hit with a hard shot was comforting), and drugs (half the time she didn’t even know what she was taking—but she never really stopped to question it).

At thirteen, Ashlyn played in a travel tournament that her coach volunteered to drive her to since her dad was in jail. It was there that Paul, a national team coach, first noticed her. Later that month she was called up to her first National Team camp, and she immediately made an impression. Her pure athleticism was rare, and she was a natural leader on the field. In exchange for a promise to stop doing drugs and quit drinking alcohol, Ashlyn was promised a spot on a Youth National Team roster at age fourteen. 

At fifteen, Ashlyn trained with the u17 team. She had a lot of breakdowns and failures, but ultimately became a better player because of it. It was that year that she totally fell in love with the game of football, and her confidence slowly grew back as she made new friends and found a little family within her team. 

At sixteen, Ashlyn attended the u19 World Cup as the starting keeper. After their victory over Canada, Ashlyn had scholarship offers flooding in. Her coach took her around the country to visit schools and at age seventeen, Ashlyn committed to University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

At eighteen, Ashlyn traveled to Thailand to compete in the u19 World Cup once again. They didn’t win, but Ashlyn gained international attention for her smart goalkeeping throughout the tournament. She was hailed as the best young goalkeeper in the world, and every coach said she had a bright future ahead of her.

Her first practice with the Tar Heels, she was standing next to the goal post stretching when an errant shot hit her thumb and completely shattered it. All she remembers is searing pain, like her entire hand was on fire, and lots of odd looks from her teammates as they initially tried to figure out what had happened to the freshman. 

Her first practice back from the thumb injury during spring training, she lunged for a ball and felt her right knee just completely twist underneath her . A torn ACL. Hello redshirt season. 

Ashlyn was so, entirely frustrated with her hand of cards, and it took one of her teammates sitting her down in order to convince her not to quit. That year took a lot out of her, but she promised herself that she wouldn’t quit. Not after everything she had worked so hard for.

Months later, while practicing back with the u21 National Team, she came down from jumping for a ball and landed awkwardly, completely tearing her left ACL. It seemed like she couldn’t catch a break. 

But she went at physical therapy with a chip on her shoulder, and came back strong enough to play in every playoff game that brought UNC to the national championship, ultimately winning the trophy.

She was on a high.    


Until the final season of training began, and she tore the labrum in her left hip. She had surgery, and sat out all of Spring practice. 

At that point, she was forced to make a decision. And she decided to be great. She trained harder than any athlete before her. She stayed for hours past dark on the field, begging her teammates to shoot at her. She watched hours and hours of footage while icing her knees and hip before getting back out on the field to perfect her form. She hit the weight room, and was determined to get drafted to a professional team. 

Finally, her dreams were reality, and she was drafted to a professional team, which led her back to the senior national team. She was easily the best goalkeeper in the country, and started playing immediately after Bri Scurry retired. 

And that’s where she met her Kelley. Her green-eyed, freckle faced Kelley. She stumbled into camp one day, completely clueless, and Ashlyn immediately took the young forward under her wing. There was lots of awkward flirting, and an even more awkward first kiss during a birthday party for one of their teammates in Mexico, but the pair immediately connected in their first year being teammates, and no one was really surprised when they announced that they were dating over team dinner one night. 

After the coaching staff learned that they were dating, they made it a point to keep them in different rooms. Phones were taken at 10 every night during tournaments and camps, but that didn’t stop the two of them from learning morse code and gently tapping out messages and “I love you’s” through the wall, much to their teammates annoyance. It took them awhile to become fluent with the taps, but not before long, they were knocking entire paragraphs through the wall at a speed that was beyond impressive to their teammates. 

After two years of dating, Ashlyn proposed, and they got married, buying a house on the beach in California right after they had traveled to Ireland for the World Cup.

They day they were married was the happiest of Ashlyn’s life. It was on the beach that they had first gone surfing together, just as Kelley wanted. Ashlyn wore a simple white oxford, her hair in waves, the very front sections pulled back in loose braids to keep her hair out of her face. Kelley was in a knee-length white dress, her hair pulled back into a loose bun, flowers threaded through her hair in the most beautiful way. 

They continued to train with the national team, falling more in love with each other each and every day. Their teammates had begun to become disgusted with them; they were definitely the lucky ones. 

That is, until they decided to venture out one day during a tournament in Spain to go surfing. It had been just like any other time they went surfing. They kissed as they waited for waves to come in, and laughed at each other every time a wave pulled them under. They were in love. 

Kelley had just finished a run when she reached the shore, looking back to find Ashlyn.   
Except she wasn’t there.

Ashlyn was ten feet underwater, her body being thrashed around by a tiger shark. “ASHLYN!” Kelley had yelled after seeing her briefly resurface before being pulled back under. 

When Kelley finally reached her, Ashlyn was still underwater, only attached to her floating board by her ankle cuff, passed out from the stress of everything. Kelley threw her up on the board, and got her to the shore as quickly as she could. It was then that she realized her wife’s left arm was completely missing, and blood was pouring out. Fast. 

Kelley grabbed her t-shirt and fashioned a tourniquet as best as she could. She tried so hard to keep Ashlyn awake after she had finally opened her eyes. “Ashlyn, Ash stay with me,” she had said through her tears as she watched blood just completely pour out of Ashlyn’s shoulder. Kelley’s breaths were shaky, and her t-shirt was completely saturated with blood, but she refused to believe that her Ashlyn would be anything but fine.

“Kelley, stop,” Ashlyn had managed to get out in a raspy voice at some point. Kelley took it to mean stop crying, which she couldn’t control. 

What Ashlyn had really meant was to stop trying to save her. 

Ashlyn died almost immediately, before anyone else ever reached the beach. It was hard for Kelley to accept that, as she kept doing CPR on Ashlyn for an hour after she had died, and only stopped after an emergency crew gently pried her away. 

The team went home the next day, understandably too distraught to play. 

There was a nice funeral in California, where hundreds of people showed up to pay their respects to a dear friend. 

Kelley never really moved on, still wearing her wedding band all those years later. She was getting better, but Ashlyn realized that she would never really move on after she watched Kelley say “goodnight, Ashlyn,” every single night before she turned out the lights in their lonely, dark bedroom from the Observation Deck. 

Ashlyn understandably did not take her death well either. It is much harder to die when one is in love. 

Because of Kelley, she did everything she could to get back to earth. She tried to take the boat back, but she was discovered before it left the seaport. 

She wasn’t the first person to become addicted to the binoculars at the Observation Deck. Exhausting an enormous supply of borrowed coins, Ashlyn would watch Kelley until her eyes glazed over. 

She attempted the illegal deep-sea dive to the Well a record of 117 times. She sometimes managed to communicate with Kelley, but mainly she drove her insane. Kelley missed Ashlyn intensely, and Ashlyn’s semi-regular visits only made things worse. Kelley stopped playing soccer, and she stayed at home, waiting for Ashlyn to come back. Eventually, Ashlyn realized what she was doing to her, and she knew she had to stop. She didn’t want to be responsible for ruining Kelley’s life. Because of Ashlyn’s experience with illegal Contact, she seemed a natural to work for the Bureau. 

Now twenty-three years old, Ashlyn had worked at the Bureau for almost four years. Ashlyn had plenty of acquaintances, but usually distanced herself from people when they started becoming too close. Once a week (never more, never less), she allowed herself to watch Kelley from the binoculars. Every Thursday night she saw Kelley grow older as she grew younger. At thirty-one years old, Kelley was now a veteran on the National team (she returned the fall after Ashlyn’s death). She never remarried and still wore her wedding band. Ashlyn wore her wedding band, too, vowing to herself to never take it off before Kelley removed hers. She had bought a new one on Elsewhere to replace the one she had left behind on Earth. 

At a certain point, Ashlyn realized that she would probably never see Kelley again. She had done all the math. In all probability, by the time Kelley reached Elsewhere, Ashlyn would be back on Earth. She had learned to live with this fact, but even four years down the road, the only person for her was Kelley Maureen O’Hara.

When people asked Ashlyn if she was married, Ashlyn told them she was. This statement seemed like a lie and the truth at the same time. Not surprisingly, Ashlyn often felt like a fraud. How could she advise other people to do what he had never been able to do herself? When she met a person like Ali, she was particularly ashamed. In her opinion, she legitimately wanted to move on and she had hindered her in that process. Ashlyn felt the need to make amends. 

And so, Ashlyn takes a dive into the Well, her first dive for a personal reason in many years. 

She peers over the Well’s edge and quickly locates the home of Ali’s cousin in Alexandria, Virginia. Ashlyn finds Ally sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a glass of water. 

Because Ashlyn has made so many dives before, she is quite sophisticated at making Contact. Consequently, when Ashlyn speaks through the Well, only one faucet comes on at the house. 

“Hello,” says Ashlyn. 

Ally sighs. “You’ve got the wrong house. The only dead person I know is my cousin, Ali.”

“I know Ali, too.”

“Yeah,” says Ally, “if you see her, tell her I’m upset with her. I didn’t find anything in the closet, and my dad got really mad.” 

“You were in the wrong closet,” Ashlyn says gently. “It’s under the floorboards in the  _ storage _ closet.”

Ally sets down her glass. “Who are you anyway?”

“I guess you could say I’m a friend of Ali’s. She’s sorry she made your dad mad, by the way.” 

“Well, tell her I miss her,” Ally says. “She was my best friend. And tell her Happy New Year, too.”

Ali’s Uncle enters the kitchen. He turns off the faucet. “Why did you leave that running?” he asks Ally. 

“It just came on by itself,” she replies. She quietly slips out of the kitchen to go to the storage closet. She immediately finds a loose floorboard, and under it is a small box. She opens the blue velvet box to reveal a beautiful bracelet, engraved with A 2 on the back, an expression that her and Ali used often to describe themselves. 

After hearing his daughter crying, Ali’s Uncle rushes to the closet. “What happened?” he asks, crouching down next to his daughter. 

Ally just shakes her head and smiles through her tears. “Look what Ali got me.”   


Ashlyn’s next piece of business is to find Ali’s brother, Kyle. She finds him half conscious against a building, and the dreaded light is flooding out of his chest. She wonders momentarily if Ali had noticed it yet. 

“Ali is real,” Ashlyn says quietly, yet firmly out of the spigot next to him. “And if you don’t cut this shit out, you’re going to die Kyle.” Kyle looks up. 

“And how the hell would you know that?”   


“Trust me. Us dead people, we know things you don’t. It would break Ali’s heart if you died Kyle. For Ali’s sake, stop it. Get help.” Ashlyn leaves just as Kyle breaks down into a pool of tears. It almost hurts, she thinks, because Kyle looks so much like his sister even through the drug-affected features of his face. 

When Ashlyn resurfaces an hour later, her colleagues from the bureau are waiting for her. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!!! :) Also fun fact, Ashlyn went through all of those injuries in real life. It took a lot of research to get everything, but damn that girl has been through a lot. #AshlynForRio #AlyssaILoveYouButIAlsoNeedAshToHaveHerCinderellaStoryKNeatThanks


	11. The Dishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali contemplates love.

Why do two people ever fall in love? It’s a mystery. 

When Ashlyn sees Ali a few days later for practice, she gets right to the point. “I just thought you should know that she got the bracelet.”    


“Hmm?” Ali says, her long ponytail whipping around as she finishes unlacing her boots. 

“Ally, she got the bracelet. She said to wish you a Happy New Year, too.”   


“You went to the Well for me?” Ali asks incredulously.

Ashlyn bites her lip before nodding her head. She had gotten a thorough talking to from her superior, and she was off duty for the next two weeks, but she still felt it was worth it. “It was important to you, so I thought it should get done,” Ashlyn says as she turns away. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Wait,” Ali says, jumping up to catch up to her. Ali wraps her arms tightly around Ashlyn. “Thank you.”

Ashlyn just nods. “Did she like it?” Ali asks.

“She loved it. It was beautiful, Ali.”   


"I don’t really know how to thank you, Ash.” It is the first time that Ali ever calls Ashlyn “Ash,” and it makes Ashlyn’s heart flutter. 

“It’s just part of my job.”   


“It’s part of your job to give my cousin a bracelet?”

“Well, not technically,” Ashlyn admits.

Ali smiles, her nose and eyes crinkling under the bright, clear sun. “Thank you, thank you.”

Ashlyn smiles back. “I was thinking, well, wondering, if maybe you would want to do the dishes again with me?”

“The dishes?” Ali asks.   


“Right,” Ashlyn says, flinching at Ali’s quick response. “I think, really, that’s my awkward way of asking you over for dinner.”

“Oh really, I hadn’t realized,” Ali says with a wide smile. “That sounds great, Ashlyn.”

Why do two people ever fall in love? It’s a mystery. 

A week later, Ali and Roo find themselves at Ashlyn Harris’ house. Roo and Dozer go off to play in the backyard while Ali and Ashlyn stay inside, sitting down for dinner. 

“I hope you like mac-and-cheese,” Ashlyn says, setting down a giant, steaming pot of the stuff on the center of the table. “It was my grandmother’s recipe.” 

Ali thinks it might be the greatest thing she has ever tasted, and the chicken Ashlyn serves with it is a nice complement. “So how do you think we look headed into playoffs?” Ali asks Ashlyn, making conversation. Their team had won all of their regular season games, led by Michael’s scoring ability and Ali and Ashlyn’s solid back-line. Their teammates had started calling them the “A-team” because they were always so in-sync with each other. 

“I think we have a real chance,” Ashlyn says. “This is the best we’ve ever looked, and with the other teams getting younger, I think this might be our year.” Ali nods affirmatively. “How is your avocation going?”   


“It’s good,” Ali says, taking another bite of mac-and cheese. As promised to Christie, Ali started the day after New Years. The people she works with remind her of her brother, all burdened with the weight of withdrawal. It takes them as long to go through withdrawal as it did from the time they started using to the time of their death. For some people, it’s months, and for others, decades. But Ali enjoys playing soccer, volleyball, and basketball with them, and they seem to enjoy it too. Somedays, when there aren’t recreational activities going on, she leads small group discussions and fills out probation paperwork in her own little office. And the payment doesn't hurt either. Ali is quickly able to pay everything back to Caty, and even start saving up her own money. 

After dinner, Ali offers to do the dishes. “I’ll wash this time,” she tells Ashlyn. “And you don’t have to dry, or whistle.”

After the dishes are clean, Ali, Ashlyn, Roo, and Dozer take a walk around the park. 

“You don’t have to answer this, I’m just curious,” Ali starts, a bit nervous walking into uncharted territory, “but did Kelley ever move on? My boyfriend did, but now seeing the way you still say her name, I’m wondering if that’s normal.”

Ashlyn sighs and twirls the ring around her finger. “No, I don’t think so,” Ashlyn says truthfully. “I think I’m ready to move on, but it would almost feel like cheating on her, you know?”

Ali nods. They walk in the pale sunset before Ali decides to ask Ashlyn for a favor.

“You can say no, if you want,” Ali begins. 

“Damn, that sounds scary,” Ashlyn says, turning to face Ali. 

“Not really. My penalty taking abilities suck, and I was wondering if you could—I don’t know—coach me? Being a goalkeeper and all.” 

Before Ali gets the chance to start rambling, Ashlyn answers. “Yeah, of course. I could use some work with my footwork anyway, this could be good for both of us.” Ali smiles before returning her gaze to the path in front of her.

On the way home from Ashlyn’s house, Ali has a dumb smile on her face. Roo hangs out of the window, barking at the birds, and Ali sings along loudly when “Here Comes the Sun” starts playing on the radio. 

Why do two people ever fall in love? It is a mystery.

Everyday after work and before practice for the next two weeks, Ashlyn and Ali meet at the field to practice PKs. 

“You’re turning your hips too much,” Ashlyn says after Ali misses the fifth shot in a row. “If you keep your hips square to the target every time, the keeper is always going to know where you’re going.” Ashlyn comes off her line to show Ali what she was doing. “Square your hips one way, shoot another. Got it?”

Ali nods before blasting 3 balls right past Ashlyn. “Damn, I’m glad I’m on the same team as you.”  Ali laughs before collapsing in the middle of the field, looking up towards the sky. Ashlyn shortly joins her, and the two sit in a content silence for what seems like forever before the rest of their team shows up to practice. 

After a few weeks, Ali finally finds time to have a real conversation over the phone with Lauren. Even though they see each other for practice nearly everyday, they never have time to really talk. 

“Well speak of the dead,” Lauren says with a chuckle.   


“Oh shut up,” says Ali, “how have you been?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“Good. I’m tired, Ashlyn has really been working me at our little pre-practice sessions.” 

“I bet she has,” Lauren retorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ali asks.

“It seems you and Ms. Harris have been spending a lot of time together lately. I don’t think you just want to improve your PKs, Miss Alexandra.” 

“Oh my god, Lauren, she’s in love with someone else,” Ali tells Lauren, “and besides, we’re just friends.” 

“Uh-huh,” Lauren says.

“Do you want to lose in the finals because I can’t make an easy PK?”   


“I think your PK abilities are just fine, Miss D-1.” 

Ali scoffs.

“Maybe you don’t want your lessons with Ashlyn to end, if you catch my drift? I mean, if you only had wanted to learn how to take a PK, you could have asked me.” 

“You’re not a keeper, though!” Ali retorts. “A keeper’s perspective is much more helpful.”

“I think you’re falling in love with her,” Lauren teases. “I think maybe you’re already in lo-ove!” She laughs.

And then Ali hangs up. Sometimes Ali cannot even believe that Lauren is her best friend.

The next day, at practice, Ali easily makes all of her shots in practice. “You look so much better, Al,” Ashlyn says. “I guess we don’t really need that extra time anymore, you’ve got it.”

Ali nods. 

“What was it that finally got through to you?” Ashlyn asks out of curiosity. 

“It’s a mystery,” Ali answers. 

—

The next day, Ali meets Hope at the pier during her lunch break. “How do you know you’re in love with someone?” Ali asks bluntly. 

Hope raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re in love with someone?” Her eyes eyes dance in what Ali considers an inappropriate manner, and her cheeks burn.

“My interests are purely anthropological, dumbass,” she mumbles.

“Well, aren’t we fiery!” Hope says with a fake hurt in her voice. As she realizes she is getting nowhere with Ali’s mood, Hope relents. “Fine, let’s talk about love.” 

“So?”

“In my opinion, love is when a person believes that they can’t live without some other person. You are a smart girl, I can’t imagine this is something you haven’t heard before.”

“But Hope,” Ali protests, “we’re  _ dead _ ! And we have to  _ live _ without people all the time, and we don’t stop loving them, and they don’t stop loving us.”

“I said  _ believes _ . No one actually  _ needs _ another person or another person’s love to survive. Love is when we have irrationally convinced ourselves that we do.”

“But like, doesn’t it have anything to do with being happy and making each other laugh and having fun times?”

Hope scoffs. “If only it were so!” She takes a sip of her coffee. “I decided a long time ago to stay out of love’s way, and I think I’ve been better for it.”

“You mean you’ve never been in love?”

“No—I have, but it broke me.”

Ali nods before mumbling, “I hope it doesn’t break me next.”   


On the way back to work. Ali thinks about what Hope said. In a roundabout way, she answered her real question.  _ Am I in love with Ashlyn? _ The answer is no. Of course she isn’t in love with her. In retrospect she almost feels a little dumb. For one, Ashlyn is in love with her wife. And two, laughing, having fun, and being happy has nothing to do with being in love. Ali feels relieved. She can continue seeing Ashlyn as much as she wants, safe in the belief that she doesn’t love her and she doesn’t love Ali either. All this love business is trouble, anyhow. Ali decides she is probably going to soon be too young for romance anyway, so she decides that she will focus on work and her friends, and that will be the end of that. 

Yes, in a way, Ali is relieved. But in another way, she isn’t. In truth, she enjoyed entertaining the notion that Ashlyn might love her, even a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Is Ali going to confront Ashlyn? Does Ashlyn feel the same about Ali?


	12. Ali For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn and Ali's relationship starts to grow into something more.

The night after Ali finally started hitting all of her shots, Ashlyn finds herself with nothing to do before practice. She spent nearly four years alone and only four weeks with Ali. And yet, she cannot remember what she used to do with her nights the four years before the four weeks. Ashlyn stalks about her house, only pausing momentarily to pet Dozer. She does the type of domestic things one only does when one is trying to fill up time: she cleans the space between the oven and refrigerator with a long wooden spoon that isn’t long enough to accomplish it’s goal; she sweeps under her bed; she tries to get through  _ The Little Prince _ , the German translation that she’s been trying to read since before she died without ever making it to page fifty-three; she tries to balance an egg on one end by placing a small mound of salt on her kitchen counter (it doesn’t work); she carves a boat out of soap; and she throws out all of the socks that have lost their partners. All that takes an hour, and then Ashlyn collapses dejectedly on the couch. 

Dozer trots over with his leash before dropping in before Ashlyn and barking wildly. Ashlyn doesn’t have the energy in her to take him for a walk, but after he gently jumps up to lick her face, she can’t say no. 

Ashlyn grabs the leash and throws on her sneakers and she starts running. Ever since she got to Elsewhere, Ashlyn has stopped worrying about pain: how can you be scared of pain when it’s literally impossible for you to die? So Ashlyn runs until she is in pain, she runs until she feels numb. She goes with Dozer all the way across town, and not before long, they find themselves in front of Ali and Caty’s house.

Ali and Caty are taking down Christmas decorations while Roo sits on the lawn, chewing a bone. Ali stands on a ladder, carefully removing Christmas lights from the overhang. Ali’s long hair sways side to side, and Ashlyn quietly realizes that the scar on her leg from her surgery has disappeared. Roo barks when he sees Dozer and Ashlyn approach. 

Ashlyn smiles sheepishly at Ali. “He begged me to take him for a walk, and now here we are,” Ashlyn says, pointing towards Dozer. “I don’t want to bother you guys or anything.”   


“Oh, you’re no bother,” Caty says. Caty’s fondness for the blonde has increased since her granddaughter had made a friend in her. Caty has observed that their little practice sessions truly improved Ali’s overall mood. “Ali, I can finish up. Why don’t you go say hello to Ashlyn?”

Ali climbs down the ladder. “I was just about to take a break anyway,” she says cooly.

“I’m sorry,” Ashlyn apologizes. “We should have called first,” she says with a laugh, picking up Dozer.

“Thanks again for the lessons.” Ali smiles. “Sorry you had to deal with fixing my awful technique.”

“It was my pleasure, and your technique wasn’t awful to begin with, Miss D1,” Ashlyn replies. “Hopefully they’ll help us pull through on Saturday.”

Saturday. The Championship, Ali remembers.

“I should get back to helping Caty with the lights,” Ali says, taking a sip of water before capping it and setting it on the concrete. 

“I’ll see you later at practice,” Ashlyn says quietly, before watching the brunette walk back to her grandmother with a smile on her face.

On Saturday, the team easily wins with a score of 4-1. Ashlyn makes some key saves, and Ali even scores when she catches the opposing keeper off her line. Lauren scores two goals, and is named the MVP of the game. 

Caty comes and watches from the stands, grabbing Ali’s face in her hands once the final whistle sounds. The crowd is bigger than Ali would have expected. There are people than there usually are at her college games, but less than a national-team game. “I’m so happy I finally got to watch you play in real life!” Caty exclaims.   


“Well, real death,” Ali corrects her with a sly smile. “This is amazing, thank you for coming.”

When they go back to the locker room, Ashlyn grabs Ali’s face in her hands. “You’re fucking amazing,” she says. 

“You’re not bad yourself.” Ali can feel herself smiling and her nose crinkles in joy. 

For a second, Ali considers kissing Ashlyn. Ali’s dark orbs wander from Ashlyn’s light eyes to her lips several times before Ashlyn finally pulls her in a hug. Ali feels relieved and disappointed all the same.

—

“To the A-Team!” Michael cheers half-drunkenly at the bar they go to later that night. Ashlyn laughs as she pulls Ali in for a friendly side-hug as the team raises their glasses. Ali raises her cup of water, and takes a swig as the guys down their beers and shots. 

“You rocked it,” Ashlyn whispers in Ali’s ear. 

Ali beams. She had died, and ended up with a championship while her team back on Earth lost in the semis. What irony, she thinks, that she got a better playoff deal six feet under ground. 

Later, Ali is driving Ashlyn back to her house to drop her off. Ali was the designated driver, since she was the newest member of the team. She still isn’t quite sure why they need designated drivers when they were already dead, but she doesn’t ask questions. “Ali,” Ashlyn says, her eyes serious and focused on the road in front of them, “I like you a lot.”

“Oh,” Ali says, “I like you too!”

Ashlyn isn’t sure if she got her point across correctly—even though she hadn’t drank either, she is still very tired from the day’s events. 

She feels the need to clarify. “When I said ‘I like you a lot,’ I think I actually meant ‘I love you.’”

“Oh,” Ali says. “I actually meant the same thing.”

—

The next day, Ashlyn shows up at Ali’s door at the time they’d normally be practicing. “Ali, Ashlyn’s here to see you!” Caty shouts from the front door. In a second, Ali is there with her makeup done and a nice outfit still on from work.    


“So I think that we need to keep practicing, we can’t get rusty in the offseason, right?”   


As absurd as Ashlyn’s assertion is considering that they had just won a championship the day before, Ali resists saying so. 

“Yeah of course.”   


“Well go get your gear, we’re going to the field.”   


Ali quietly disappears for a minute, and reappears with a fresh-face, her hair tossed in a bun and Nike clothes thrown on her body. “Let’s go,” she says. 

They take the short walk to the field, and when Ali turns the corner, she sees a blanket with a candle and a basket right in midfield. 

“Are we having a candle lit picnic at sunset on a  _ field _ ?” Ali asks. 

“Nope,” Ashlyn replies. “We’re training.” 

“I think we’re having a picnic,” Ali insists. “I think you’re taking me on a date.”

“No, we’re staying on the pitch, not letting ourselves get rusty,” Ashlyn says, taking Ali’s hand to lead her to the blanket.  Ali notices how gentle Ashlyn’s hand feels in hers, how comforting Ashlyn’s thumb feels running over her palm.

“Incidentally, what do you have in that basket while we  _ don’t let ourselves get rusty _ ?”  

“Oh, I don’t know.” Ashlyn pulls out a bottle of red wine along with a large container of mac-and-cheese.

Ali sits down as Ashlyn pours two glasses of wine and opens the steaming container of mac-and-cheese.    


“I think its funny,” Ali says to Ashlyn, “that you never call a thing by its name.”

“What do you mean?”   


“Well, when you invited me to dinner, you called it ‘doing dishes.’ And now we’re sitting on a blanket at sunset drinking wine, and you call it ‘training.’”

“I’m sorry,” Ashlyn says, a small smile on her face. 

“Oh, I’m not upset. I like it actually,” Ali replies. “It’s as if you’re speaking in code. It gives me something to do. I’ve always got to decipher you.”

“I’ll try to speak more plainly from now on,” Ashlyn says. As she takes the last sip of her wine, she whispers to Ali, “I thought now that the season’s done, I might never see you again.”   


Ali rolls her eyes. “Not a chance in hell. Or heaven. Whatever this is. Not a chance in Elsewhere.”

—

A week later, Ali and Ashlyn find themselves on the blanket at sunset again. 

And a week later, again. 

And a week later, again. 

“Do you think it’s odd that in all the time we’ve spent here we’ve never been under the bleachers?” Ali asks. 

“Now who’s speaking in code?” Ashlyn replies curtly.    


“Answer the question. Do you think it’s odd?”

“It’s not that I don’t like you like that, Ali, because I do.” Ashlyn pauses. “I’m just not sure it would be right.” 

“Why?”

“I’m older than you, for one.” 

“Only two years,” Ali retorts. 

“Eight years, if we’re talking Earth time,” Ashlyn corrects. “But it’s not just that I’m older than you.” Ashlyn takes a deep breath. “I’ve been here before, and I know you have too. And the truth is, intimacy doesn’t have all that much to do with bleachers and beds. Real intimacy is brushing your teeth together.” 

Ashlyn takes off her jacket and wraps it around Ali, who is now shivering in the cool evening breeze. Ali carefully studies her sleeve, looking at the “Kelley” tattoo on the inside of her wrist. It suddenly makes her realize that a long time ago, Ashlyn had sex with Kelley, which for some reason strikes her as odd. Ali notices that the tattoos seems to be brighter and more vivid than ever before. It almost looks like it’s glowing. 

“Ashlyn,” Ali asks, “what’s with the tattoos?”

“They were something to do, I don’t know really.” 

“No, I mean, why are they so bright.”

Ashlyn looks down at her arm. “I know. It’s odd, isn’t it? When my arm finally grew back—is everything okay?” Ashlyn pauses when she sees Ali cringe at the thought that her arm had to grow back. 

“I’m good,” Ali says, encouraging her to continue. 

“When my arm finally grew back, they came back too. I always expected them to fade and go away, but they’ve only gotten brighter and brighter.” 

“You could tattoo my name on your wrist if you want,” Ali says in a moment of boldness. 

“I could, but tattoos don’t really work in Elsewhere. They’re gone almost as soon as you put them on,” Ashlyn replies. 

“Don’t you understand? It’s the  _ gesture _ ,” Ali jokes. 

“If I’m to understand you correctly, you would have me endure hours of pain and suffering for a gesture?”

“Yeah,” Ali deadpans. “I want to see ‘Ali For Now’ tattooed across your ass.”

“On my  _ ass _ ?”

“Yes, on your ass. It’s only nine letters total. It shouldn’t hurt too, too much.”

“You’re a sadist,” Ashlyn says. 

“I thought I was being very nice, actually. I wasn’t even going to make you write ‘Alexandra.’”

“How generous,” she says. 

Ali takes Ashlyn’s arm in her hands and studies the Kelley tattoo up close. Ali thinks,  _ she once loved someone enough to tattoo her name on her wrist.  _

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Ashlyn says, noticing Ali’s lingering glance. “I was young and in love.” 

“Did these hurt?” Ali asks out of curiosity.    


Ashlyn nods. 

Ali takes the tattooed arm and presses it to her lips. She kisses the arm before leaning into Ashlyn, staring at the colors of the sunset. 

_ So this is what love is beyond the grave _ , Ali thinks. 

—

If we were to read the book of Lauren, it would tell of a long forgotten spelling bee (forgotten by everyone but Lauren, that is) where a little girl spells e-c-h-o and at the last crucial moment adds another  _ e  _ to the end; it would tell of Lauren’s first love, a basketball player named Jrue began dating Lauren’s best friend the week after Lauren’s funeral; it would tell of the way a little heart condition changes everything, how running after a 50-50 ball with just a little bit too much effort can kill; it would tell of a father who did his best not to cry as he helped bury his little girl; it would tell of a mother who regrets ever putting her daughter in sports. But because this is not Lauren’s story, we join her on a rather unremarkable day. For her, at least. 

At the station where she works, Lauren receives her portion of the arrival names each day after lunch, around one o’clock. She doesn’t need to read them until the five o’clock broadcast, so she uses the four extra hours to go over each name’s pronunciation. The extra practice is, for the most part, unnecessary. Lauren rarely makes a mistake; she has a natural ability for pronouncing even the most foreign names. And yet, on this particular day, Lauren stumbles over two simple, phonetic, easily pronounceable names and decides to call Ali about it. 

“The name of that woman Ashlyn was married to on Earth? What was it again? Keelan something?” Lauren hopes she indeed misremembered the name. 

“Kelley O’Hara.” Ali knows the name as well as she knows her own. “Why?”   


“Kelley O’Hara, that must be a pretty common name.”

“Lauren, what are you getting at?” asks Ali. 

“Um, that name might have been on today’s arrivals list. So a certain Kelley O’Hara will be here on tomorrow’s boat.”

Ali’s heart beats very quickly, and she can’t speak.

“It doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Lauren says. 

“No, I know. Of course not. You’re right.” Ali takes a deep breath. “I wonder if Ashlyn knows. She hasn’t watched the broadcasts in years.” 

Lauren sits in silence for a moment before working up the courage to ask Ali her next question. “Mm. By the way, just wondering, what exactly was your brother's name again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updates have been inconsistent, comments will encourage me to get them up ;) I hope you guys are enjoying this!
> 
> p.s. What do you think is going to happen moving forward into this story?


	13. Arrivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some familiar faces arrive in Elsewhere, and Ali and Ashlyn are forced to reevaluate their relationship.

For the second time in her life on Elsewhere, Ali finds herself standing on the pier, but this time she is waiting for the return of the SS Nile rather than arriving herself. Ashlyn stands next to her, and Ali can tell she is just as tense as she is. Ashlyn reaches for Ali’s hand instinctively when they first catch glimpse of the ship in the soft orange of the horizon. Ali feels hot and angry, while Ashlyn feels sad and anxious. Yet the two understand each other with no words needed, and squeeze each other’s hands when they know the other is feeling just a little too much. 

The pier is crowded Ali notices. It is late April, and Ali realizes that for some reason, it must be a pretty popular time to die. 

Ashlyn squeezes Ali’s hand before releasing it as the large ship docks adjacent to the pier. Ali sees her blonde waves bounce up and down as she gently makes her way through the crowd, trying to get to the front. Ashlyn knows that Kelley is always eager for an adventure, and that she will surely want to be one of the first ones off. She worries that Kelley will get lost before she even has the chance to find her. Ali stays behind, taking deep breaths as her hands ball up into fists. 

As people pour out of the boat, Ali attentively looks at Ashlyn, watching her face as people walk onto the pier. As soon as Ali first sees Kelley coming out of the runway, she knows it is her. Her face is freckled, and she has unmistakably bright green eyes.  

She was beautiful. And she was Ashlyn’s.

Ashlyn worries that Kelley won’t recognize her. It is a stupid thing to worry about, she knows. She looks the exact same as she always had, but for some reason couldn’t shake the thought that her Kelley would walk off of the boat and have no idea who she was. 

Those fears dissipate though as soon as those green eyes met hers, and Kelley comes flying down the pier to crash into Ashlyn. They immediately embrace, and Ashlyn buries herself in the scent of Kelley’s hair. “I thought you wouldn’t recognize me,” Ashlyn says tearfully. 

“Never,” Kelley says assertively. “God I missed you, Ash.”

“I missed you too, Kell.”

The couple embrace for a few minutes more before Kelley finally pulls back. “You look good, Ash,” she says, running her finger down Ashlyn’s left arm, smiling at the sight of the tattoo’s she thought she would never see again. 

“You look good too Kell,” Ashlyn says, smiling. 

“You look young,” Kelley replies, her eyebrows furrowing before her gaze returns to Ashlyn’s eyes. “Are we all young here?”

Ali watches Kelley and Ashlyn’s interactions from off in the distance. She wants to feel hurt, she wants to cry at the sight of Ashlyn looking so lovingly at Kelley, but she can’t. All she feels is anger towards her brother. She waits at the end of the pier, hesitant to see Kyle. Like Ali, he waits until the last possible moment to get off the ship, and when he does, he looks confused as he looks around the empty pier. 

“Over here.”

Kyle turns around. He is dressed in the pure white pajamas that the Nile provides, and his hair is neatly trimmed and combed. His eyes are big and confused and sad looking, but Ali takes no pity as she runs towards him and immediately throws a punch into his stomach. It hurts her hand, but not as bad as the hurt she feels at the sight of her dead brother. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” she says as she straddles him, throwing punches until she can’t feel her hand anymore. She knows it is useless, that he is far bigger than her and that once he finally gained control her efforts would be fruitless.

“Ali, I’m so sorry,” he says in a small, meek voice. And at the sound of his voice, Ali breaks down into tears. She throws her arms around him, and nuzzles her head into his chest. In return, Kyle gently wraps his arms around her and strokes her hair. 

“You’re so fucking stupid Kyle. Do you really think Mom can handle having not one, but two dead kids?” Kyle gulps. He had never really thought of it that way. And he certainly didn’t think that his sweet, baby sister would be this blunt with him.

The last thing Kyle remembers from Earth is being dragged out of Ali’s hospital room after they pronounced her dead. He went back to California, and got lost in drugs. Heroin, specifically. His life was a blur until he woke up on the boat, and it took him watching his own funeral to even realize he was dead. In that moment he vowed to never touch drugs or alcohol again. That is, if they even have those things on Elsewhere. 

“I’m so sorry,” is all he manages to get out once again as he holds his sobbing sister on the hard, wooden pier. He gently picks her up, her arms around his neck, and his arms under her legs and back. He walks to the end of the pier only to realize he has no clue where he is. “Ali,” he asks, “where are we going?”

—

“Oh, god,” Caty says at the sight of Kyle. Ali didn’t have the heart to tell her beforehand, so she is in complete shock at the sight of her two grandchildren standing in the doorway of her house. Kyle gently sets Ali down and takes a step towards his grandmother, who looks like a hybrid of his mom and sister. 

“Hi Grandma.” The two embrace as Ali looks on with tears in her eyes. 

“What are you doing here?” Caty asks gently before kissing Kyle on the cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyle says, looking down, remorse evident on his face. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”  
Caty smiles slightly and nods. She looks at her grandson. His eyes are the same, identical to her own and Ali’s, but he is much bigger and stronger than she could have ever pictured him. His arms are tattooed and his hair is styled in a modern way. She didn’t spend much time looking at him at the OD’s, but she knew he was into things he shouldn’t be. But never did she think it would come to this. “I don’t think any of us mean for this to happen, honey. Dinner’s ready, I can throw some more pasta on the stove. Why don’t you and Ali sit down and eat.”

Meanwhile at Ashlyn’s house, Kelley is sat on the couch, a cup of orange juice (her favorite) in hand. “So how does this work? Do I stay with you?”

“Of course you do,” Ashlyn answers. “You’re my wife.”

“Am I? Still?”   


Ashlyn laughs. “Of course you are. What else would you be?”

“But what about ‘til death do us part’ and all of that?” Ashlyn laughs again. Kelley sure hadn’t lost her sense of humor in those years they spent apart. 

Ashlyn plops down on the couch next to Kelley, reaching her arm around Kelley’s waist. “Well, I always thought of us as married,” Ashlyn says, “and now we aren’t parted anymore.”

Kelley nods but doesn’t say anything. 

“Haven’t you always thought of us as married?” Ashlyn asks. 

“In a way, I guess I have. Yeah.” Kelley’s eyes are bright, and a smile is plastered across her face.

Ashlyn smiles at the sight. “Have I told you how happy I am to see you?”

—

Later that night, on Ashlyn’s side of town, she lays with Kelley in bed, twirling a section of her hair around her finger. “Is it wrong that I  _ love _ the flu? Is it wrong that I want to sing songs in praise of the flu?”

Kelley giggles and pecks Ashlyn on the lips. “I’m glad that my death brings out the troubadour in you. But I am dead here, you know. A little gravity is in order.” She pokes Ashlyn’s ribs and they are suddenly both in a fit of laughter. “The flu. How fucking dumb is that?” And then she sneezes. “Hey, I thought there wasn’t any sickness here,” she says incredulously. 

“There isn’t,” Ashlyn replies. 

And then Kelley sneezes again. And Ashlyn remembers that she is allergic to dogs. “Oh my god,” Ashlyn says.

“What?” Kelley says, sitting up in the bed. “Is everything okay?” And with that, the sounds of nails and tiny barks fill the hall beyond the door, and then it is Kelley saying “oh my god.”

“You did not,” Kelley says, her green eyes flashing towards Ashlyn. 

Ashlyn bites her lip. “It’s just a tiny french bulldog. I think they’re hypoallergenic Kell.”

—

On Ali’s side of town, Kyle lays with her in her bed. Even though Caty has another room that Kyle can occupy, Ali misses the simplicity of resting with her brother. The year that their parents divorced, one or the other would end up moving to the others room so that they wouldn’t have to cry alone. It became a thing of comfort, sleeping in the same bed, and as much as it pains Ali to admit, she misses it. 

“So how is it here Ali?” Kyle asks softly, the room dark and quiet. 

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. There’s soccer, and Caty is the sweetest, and I have a few friends, and Roo, and I even sort of fell in love, but that’s not a thing anymore,” Ali replies, her words turning into mumbles at the end of the sentence. 

“Did you say you fell in love here?” 

Ali nods into her brother's arm that is wrapped protectively around her. “Oh.” Ali remains silent. “Who is he? Do I need to give him the big brother speech?” Kyle says, trying to inject a bit of humor into the mostly serious conversation.

“She,” Ali whispers quietly. “Ashlyn.” 

Kyle remains silent, taking a moment to think before speaking again. “Oh. I didn’t—I didn’t know you were gay, Al.”   


“I don’t really label myself, but if anything, I’m bisexual, actually. Maybe if you were coherent enough to actually talk to me in these last three years you would have known that.” Ali says it with a bit of a bite and immediately regrets it as she feels Kyle tense up. “I’m sorry, that was mean.”

Kyle just nods his head. “It’s okay. I have a lot of catching up to do.” He gently kisses the top of her head before drifting off to sleep. 

—

The next day, Ashlyn shows up at Caty and Ali’s house before the sun has risen. She quietly knocks on the door, knowing that Ali’s room is directly next to it before knocking a bit louder. 

“What the hell,” Kyle groans in his sleep as Ali finally stirs awake. Wearing only underwear and a loose tank-top, Ali groggily gets out from under her thick sheets and walks to the door. The warm air rushes in as she opens it to reveal Ashlyn and Dozer waiting outside. 

“Morning,” Ashlyn says hesitantly, noticing Ali’s lack of real clothes. 

“Ashlyn, it's four a.m., what are you doing here?” Ali’s mind wanders through all the possibilities. Maybe Ashlyn and Kelley got in a fight. Maybe Ashlyn’s here to confess her love. Maybe—

“I was wondering if you could watch Dozer for today and maybe a few days after that. Kelley’s allergic, and I think it would probably be best to have him out of the house while she adjusts.”   


_ Oh _ . “Yeah, of course. It’s not a problem. Why are you here so early though?”

“I didn’t sleep much. Just a lot to think about. How’s your brother?”

Ali sighs deeply. She truthfully didn’t know how her brother was. He was quiet and filled with remorse, so their conversations hadn’t wandered too deep yet. “He’s good. How’s Kelley?”

Ashlyn smiles, and her whole face lights up. “She’s great. I didn’t even realize how much I missed her until I saw her yesterday.”

Ali returns the smile out of courtesy. “It must be nice to have someone like that.” Ali bites her lip in order to prevent showing how she really feels. “It was really nice seeing you Ash,” she says before grabbing Dozer’s leash and shutting the door. 

—

“I know buddy, I know,” Ali says later that day as Dozer whines at her while nuzzling her leg. He misses Ashlyn and Ali knows it. It also didn’t help that Ashlyn hadn’t brought along Dozer’s favorite toy, a little stuffed bear that Ashlyn had bought the day she adopted him. Ali scratches behind his ears one last time before returning to her desk, filling out paperwork regarding incoming addicts. She sighs as she catches sight of her brother’s name on one of the forms. 

In the same breath, Kyle comes crashing through her door. “My last word was ‘fuck’. Can you believe it? Mom would be so proud.” Kyle flops into the chair opposite Ali’s desk and kicks his feet up, which are still in the slippers provided by the Nile. 

Ali laughs. It is the first laugh that her and Kyle have shared in years, and she suddenly becomes hyper-aware of the fact that her brother is actually  _ here _ , sitting in front of her with the smirk only he can do justice. “Mine was ‘um’, if it makes you feel any better.”

“At least ‘um’ isn’t explicit, Alexandra! Can you imagine if Caty ever finds out?  _ Oh my god _ , can she find out?”

Ali laughs wholeheartedly before looking Kyle in the eye. “She won’t, Kyle. And from what I have heard, people tend to say some weird shit when they’re, you know,  _ dying _ .”

Kyle crinkles his nose and laughs in return. “I’ve missed this, you know.”

“What?”

“You, really. I’ve missed you.”

Ali looks up at him and sighs. She gets up from the chair she normally occupies behind her desk and moves to where she can comfortable sit in Kyle’s lap, wrapping her arms around her big-brother’s neck. She would be content, to sit there all day in her brothers strong, protective arms, but she knows that their weight ratio had definitely gone down since the days of the divorce, and—

“Al, you’re, um, hurting me.” 

Ali laughs and kisses her brother on the forehead before getting up and grabbing Dozer’s leash. She had brought him along for the day knowing that the poor little dog was probably already confused enough without Ashlyn around. She grabs Kyle’s hand and leads him out the door. “Come on, we’re going for a walk.”

—

“I’m sorry I was such an ass when you got here, I was just really upset,” Ali says as they walk along the seaside. 

“No, don’t be Al. I deserved it. I have a lot of catching up to do, like, three years worth.”

Kyle kicks the water he walks while Ali goes through telling him about soccer, and then their parents, and then the classes she had taken at Penn State. She tells him everything, including coming out to their parents before she left for college, and then about how much Ally looked and acted like the two of them. Finally she tells him about Brent. 

“I’m gonna kick his ass if I ever see him again,” Kyle says after Ali tells him that he had since moved on from her death. 

“No, he was a good guy. He deserves to move on,” Ali says dejectedly. 

They walk in silence for a good amount of time before Kyle speaks up again. “So tell me about this love you said you found here.”

Ali sighs. She had really tried to stop thinking about Ashlyn ever since Lauren told her Kelley was set to arrive. A whole seventy-two hours she had spent trying to forget the way her name sounded on the blonde’s tongue. 

“It was nothing. She was charming. I fell hard. Her wife died, and arrived yesterday with you. And now, it’s over.” Ali bites her lip, desperately trying to hold herself together. 

Kyle stops walking and grabs Ali’s hands in his own. “That’s who was at the door this morning, wasn’t it?”

—

With every passing day, Kelley is like a small miracle to Ashlyn. There she is in Ashlyn’s chair. And wearing her shirt. And doing the dishes. And sleeping on her couch in the middle of the day. She’s everywhere. Ashlyn can’t believe how everywhere she is. She keeps finding herself kissing her just to make sure she’s real. She wants to take pictures of her just because she can. And when Ashlyn’s supposed to be doing other things, she just sits there and stares at Kelley. And Kelley’s so amazing. She wants to see things, so Ashlyn takes her to all of her favorite places in Elsewhere. And she asks a lot of questions. (She had forgotten that about Kelley). And Ashlyn does her best to answer them, but Kelley’s always smarter than her (now, even more so), so she’s not sure if all her answers are ever satisfactory to her. 

Okay, a couple of things do annoy Ashlyn a little bit. She is ashamed to even mention them. Kelley’s messy. And she likes to start home improvement projects, but she never actually finishes them. And she stays up late and is noisy even when she’s trying to be quiet. And she never takes her hair out of the drain. And she really does ask a lot of questions. And sometimes they run out of stuff to talk about, because all they have in common is the past. So a lot of their conversations begin with, “Do you remember that time…?” And the thing that bothers Ashlyn the most has nothing to do with Kelley. 

But Ashlyn tries to ignore these things. This is Kelley, after all. 

—

One Saturday afternoon, Ali stops by Ashlyn’s house to pick up Dozer’s favorite toy that had been left behind. Dozer has been whining all the time he had been with Ali, but Ali has been avoiding the task for one reason or another. When Ali finally does go, Ashlyn isn’t there, but Kelley is. Ali wonders if Kelley even knows who she is. 

“I’m Ali,” she says stiffly. “I’m the one watching Dozer. You must be Kelley.”   


“Oh, Ali, it’s so nice to meet you.” Kelley smiles and shakes her hand. “Thank you for taking care of Dozer,” she says. “I hope I won’t be allergic forever and that eventually I can have a little cuddle-buddy. He’s adorable.”

Ali nods. “I’m just here to get his bear and then I’ll go.”

“Sure, I’ll go get it.” Kelley returns with the bear. She looks at Ali. Ali reminds Kelley of someone, but she can’t quite place who it is. “How do you know Ashlyn, anyway?”

“I…” Ali pauses. “We played soccer on the same team during the season. I know you played, we’d love to have you next year.” 

Kelley smiles. “Yeah, I’d love that too.” Ali stands awkwardly on the porch, really taking in the beauty of the green-eyed girl for the first time. “Can I get you a soda or something? It’s just that I haven’t met any of Ashlyn’s friends and I’m sort of curious.”   


“I really have to go,” Ali says. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, all right. Some other time then?”

Ali nods. She gets into her car as quickly as she can and drives away.    


“Ali,” Kelley calls after her, “you forgot to take the bear!”

—

At home in bed, Ali cries into her pillow. Kyle tries his best to comfort her. 

“Ali, you’ve got to stop. There are plenty of other people that would be lucky to love you,” he says as he rubs gentle circles on her back.

“We’re not getting any older, if you haven’t noticed,” Ali says miserably. “There’s no time for me to find another love. Love isn’t even real!”

“Well, you can still be friends with Ashlyn, can’t you?”

Ali says nothing.    


“We should have them over for dinner, Ashlyn and Kelley.”   


“Why?”

“Because it’s nice, and she’s your good friend.”

“I think that’s a fucking stupid idea, Kyle,” Ali says.   


"Next Saturday, let’s have them over. I really want to meet her.”

—

About a week later, Ashlyn and Kelley come to Caty’s house for dinner. Ashlyn is happy to see Dozer and is proud to introduce Kelley to everyone. Caty and Kelley spend most of the evening talking to each other. Their conversation is punctuated by Kelley’s sneezes, even though the dogs had been banished to Ali’s room for the occasion. Ali is mostly silent. Ashlyn keeps trying to make eye contact with her, but she consciously avoids her gaze. On account of Kelley’s allergies and Ali’s sullenness, the evening ends quickly. 

“Now that didn’t kill you, did it?” Kyle asks later that night.    


“I’m already dead, genius,” Ali mumbles into her pillow.

“Kelley was nice,” Kyle adds. 

“I didn’t say she wasn’t,” Ali says through gritted teeth. 

—

In the car on the way home, Kelley says to Ashlyn, “You like Ali, don’t you?”

Ashlyn doesn’t answer, instead keeping her hazel eyes fixed on the road.

“You don’t have to feel bad about it,” Kelley continues. “It would be the most natural thing in the world if you did. She’s your age, and you couldn’t have known I would be coming here.”

Ashlyn shakes her head. “I love you, Kell. I’ll always love you.”

“I know you do,” Kelley says, lowering her eyes to the fingers that are whitening by the second due to the tight grip she has between them to distract her. 

—

That same night, Ali is in bed about to sleep when suddenly Dozer is on her chest and crying. He keeps nuzzling Ali’s face, and when Ali realizes that not even his bear is calming his cries, she loses all of her patience. “That’s it,” she loudly exclaims, enough for Kyle to hear and open his door to make sure everything is okay. “I’m driving over there!” She grabs Caty’s keys from the counter and slams the door. 

A few minutes later, with her pulse racing, Ali rings Ashlyn’s doorbell. 

“Are you ever planning to come and get Dozer?” Ali yells when Ashlyn’s face, full of sleep, appears in the doorway. “Or are you just planning to leave him with me for the rest of your life?”

“Ashlyn,” Ali can hear Kelley’s voice  from inside the house, “who’s at the door?”

“It’s only Ali,” Ashlyn yells back to Kelley. 

“Hi Ali!” Kelley calls out, so nicely that Ali almost hates herself for what she is about to say to Ashlyn. 

“‘Only Ali’?” Ali is indignant. 

Ashlyn closes the door behind her and leads Ali off the porch. “You don’t say a word to me all night, and then you come over here to yell at me?!”

“Ashlyn,” Ali says, “I don’t think it’s fair what you’re doing to Dozer and you know it. He’s constantly crying, he misses you! The poor dog already lost his family on Earth, he doesn’t need to lose you too.”

“Oh, come on, I’m sure he’s fine living with you. Dozer loves you,” Ashlyn says.

“He may love me, but I am not his owner. He cries, Ashlyn. Dogs living with their owners do not cry themselves to sleep.”

“Well,” Ashlyn says, “I’m sorry about that.”

“So when are you planning on coming to get him?”

“Soon, I promise. Just as soon as Kelley’s settled in.”

“It’s been three weeks. Don’t you think she’s settled in enough?”

“You know Kelley’s allergic,” Ashlyn sighs. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You made a commitment to Dozer. You adopted him all those years ago, and he adopted you too. You promised to take care of him.”

“But I made a commitment to Kelley long before I ever met Dozer.”

“Oh, for crying out loud! I am so tired of Kelley!” Ali yells. 

“I’m so tired of you acting like a stranger! And I don’t think this is about Dozer at all!” Ashlyn yells back. 

“For your information, I don’t want anything to do with you. I wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t left your dog with me!”   


“Oh yeah?” Ashlyn retorts.

“Yeah.”

And then, because there is nothing left to say, they kiss. Ali wasn’t sure if Ashlyn had kissed her or if she had, in fact, kissed Ashlyn. Either way, it’s not quite how she imagined their first kiss would be. 

Ashlyn’s lips are soft, and she captures Ali’s bottom lip between her own several times before she runs her tongue over it and kisses her even more deeply. 

When Ali finally pulls away from Ashlyn, she sees Kelley staring back at her. Kelley doesn’t look angry, exactly, just sort of curious. 

“Hey,” Kelley says quietly. “I heard yelling.” She smiles an awkward, courteous smile. “I guess I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, not unkindly. 

“Kelley—” Ashlyn says. But Kelley is already gone. “This is all your fault!” Ashlyn yells at Ali. 

“My fault? Are you kidding me? You kissed me.”

“I mean you being here. You existing. You’re making my life so much harder,” Ashlyn says. 

“What do you mean?” Ali asks.

“I loved Kelley. I  _ love _ her,” Ashlyn says, “and maybe if I had met you first, Ali, things would be different. But this is the way things are.”   


Ashlyn sinks onto the porch steps. She looks absolutely deflated. She buries her face in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees. “She’s my wife, Ali. There’s nothing I can do. Even if I wanted to do something, there’s nothing I can do.”

“I’ll keep watching Dozer,” Ali says before she quietly leaves Ashlyn alone with her thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? I'm trying to stay somewhat true to the book but it's becoming harder lol. Comments are appreciated! :) x
> 
> p.s. follow me on tumblr @ tellhimisaidwhatsup.tumblr.com :)


	14. Sneaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali makes a decision about her life in Elsewhere.

After the porch incident, and after she had gently coaxed Ashlyn into calming down and going to sleep, Kelley walks down to the pier. Her long hair sways behind her, and her hands are balled up in her sweatshirt as she walks down the dark, somewhat unfamiliar streets of Elsewhere. She spots a figure with their feet dangling into the water juxtaposed against the moonlight. Kelley also notices that the figure has a cup of coffee in hand as she approaches the dark blue waves. She debates for a second if she should join the mysterious figure before sitting herself a few feet away from them. 

“You okay?” the figure asks, suddenly turning to reveal a young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, with dark blonde hair and striking blue eyes. 

Kelley laughs. “Yeah. This being dead thing is weird.” 

“Yeah tell me about it. I’m Hope,” the figure says before extending her coffee cup towards Kelley. “Here, have some.”

Kelley graciously takes the cup and drinks before realizing that it is indeed spiked coffee—not that she minds. 

“Kelley,” she responds after taking a long sip. “Thanks,” she says, handing the cup back to Hope. They sit in silence, their feet dangling in the water before Hope speaks up again. 

“You know what I just realized?” she asks rhetorically, her blue eyes lighting up.

Kelley shakes her head.    


“For every life we’re given to live, we’re given one death to live. It’s kind of a gift, isn’t it?”

—

One night after work, Christie Rampone stops by Ali’s office. Ali is one of her favorite advisees, and she loves to see how the young soccer player who reminds her so much of herself is doing. That evening, she finds Ali with Ashlyn’s dog, Dozer, and her own Roo cramped up in Ali’s office. It had rained all day, and all three seem to be a little bit under-the-weather. 

“Hey, Ali,” Christie says cautiously, looking at the expression on her young advisee’s face. “How are you?”

Ali simply bites her lip and looks Christie in the eye before responding, “I’m good, thanks.”

“How’s Ashlyn?” Christie asks knowingly. It’s not like the two ever went out of their way to hide their close friendship on the field—or whatever it was. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Ali replies coldly, turning back to the papers on her desk.

“Oh honey, what happened?” Christie asks, knowing that something is up. She takes a seat across from Ali’s desk, looking worryingly at her.

“Nothing,” Ali quietly replies, before Christie raises an eyebrow knowingly. 

“ _ Ugh _ ,” Ali groans before placing her hands over her face in defeat, “how do you know everything?”

“I just do. Now tell me what’s up.” 

“Her wife—Kelley. She’s here.” 

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. And I might of—um, I—fuck it, I kissed Ashlyn and Kelley saw.” Christie bites her lip and nods her head. 

“Okay. That’s a lot. We can definitely talk this over later if you want, it doesn’t seem like you’re too eager to let it out yet.” Ali graciously nods. “Well, I came here in the first place to remind you that next week marks the one-year anniversary of your arrival here,” Christie says. “So, I think congrats are in order.” 

“Is that all?” asks Ali. Truthfully, she wants nothing more than to go home and cry just like she has done every night for the past week. 

“Well, it’s just a formality really, but I need to make sure you don’t want to exercise the Sneaker Clause.”

“And what was that again?”

“A Sneaker is a young person who returns to Earth before their proper passage,” Christie reminds Ali. “You have one year to decide, and that year is just about finished.”

Ali considers what Christie is saying. Somehow this whole experience with Ashlyn and Kelley has made her feel entirely exhausted and pessimistic. What is the point of loving anyone? To Ali, all the effort of working, living, loving, talking has begun to seem just that: effort. In twenty-one years (less, actually), she would just forget everything anyway. All things considered, it is beginning to seem preferable to speed the process up a bit. “So I can still go?” Ali asks. 

“Seriously?” Christie asks with an unbelieving look on her face.

Ali nods. 

Christie looks back at Ali. “Damn, I wasn’t expecting that,” she says softly, puffing her cheeks out. “I actually thought you were doing pretty well here. Is everything with Kyle okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just—I don’t know. What would I have to do?” Ali asks.

“Inform your friends and loved ones of your decision. By letter or in person, your choice. You should really talk to Caty about this, Ali.” Christie sighs and shakes her head, looking uncharacteristically distraught.

“This is what I want, Christie,” Ali says. “Wait, you won’t tell Caty about this, right?”

Christie shakes her head. “Everything we discuss is always confidential. I couldn’t tell her even if I wanted to. Even though I really,  _ really _ want to, Ali.”

—

It is determined that Ali’s Release will take place Sunday morning, the one-year anniversary of her arrival on Elsewhere and the last possible day she could exercise the clause. She will leave with all the babies on the River. It will be strange, Ali thinks, to be among so many babies. Furthermore, Ali will have to be wrapped in swaddling clothes, which would be totally humiliating if anyone saw her. Of course, no one will see her anyway. 

The only person Ali decides to tell is Hope. The obvious choices—Caty, Kyle, Michael, or Lauren—would try to talk her out of it, and Ali isn’t in the mood for anymore drama. She isn’t even speaking to Ashlyn. So basically that leaves Hope. She always seems amused by other people’s lives, but decidedly detached and apathetic. Hope would be sad to see her go, but she wouldn’t do anything to try to stop her. And that is exactly what Ali wants—no, what Ali  _ needs _ .

Still, Ali waits as long as possible to talk to Hope. She tells her on the Saturday night before she is set to leave. 

“So I suppose there’s no talking you out of this?” Hope says, as the two of them sit on the wharf, their legs dangling over the side.

“Nope,” Ali replies, “it’s decided.”

“And this isn’t because of Ashlyn?”

Ali sighs. “No,” she finally says, “not really. But maybe I just wish I could have what she has.”

“I don’t follow, Ali.”

“The thing is, Ashlyn had Kelley from before, from Earth. I have Kyle from before on Earth, but sometimes I feel like I barely know him. Kelley was Ashlyn’s first love, and I want that. I want to be someone’s first. Can you understand that? It sometimes feels that in this backward life, nothing that happens to me is ever new. Everything that happens has happened to someone else before. I feel like I’m getting everything secondhand.”

“Ali,” Hope says seriously, “I think you would find that even if you were still on Earth, living a forward life, everything that happened to you would still have happened to someone else.” 

“Yes,” Ali concedes, “but it wouldn’t be so predetermined. I wouldn’t know when I was going to die. I wouldn’t know that in about twenty years I will be a baby again. I would get to be an adult. I would have a life of my own.”

“You have a life of your own,” Hope says while stirring her coffee.

Ali shrugs. She feels no need to have this conversation.

“Ali, I think you’re making a huge mistake.”   


Suddenly, Ali turns on her. “You’re one to talk, Hope! Look at you, you left everything you love behind! You don’t play soccer! You don’t socialize! You sit on this pier all day, doing nothing but looking at the water! You’re living life half dead for fucks sake!”   


“I’m full dead, actually,” Hope jokes. 

“Everything is a joke to you,” Ali angrily mumbles before walking away. 

“Ali, just please think through this, okay?!” Hope calls out after her.

—

Ali stays up all night drafting a letter to Caty and Kyle. They deserve to know, she decides. 

 

> Dear Caty and Kyle, 
> 
> ~~ Every day is exactly the day before, and I can’t stand it anymore. I feel like I’ll never get to the good part. Death is just on big rerun, you know. ~~
> 
> ~~ It’s not about Ashlyn. ~~
> 
> ~~ By now, you probably know I’ve gone back to Earth. ~~
> 
> Gone back to Earth as a Sneaker.   
> 
> 
> Please don’t worry. 
> 
> ~~ I’m sorry it has to be this way. ~~
> 
> I’m sorry.
> 
> Take care of Roo and Dozer for me. 
> 
> Love,
> 
> Ali

 

Omitting the crossed out parts, Ali rewrites the letter on a fresh sheet of paper and goes to sleep.

—

Late that night, Ashlyn hears a knocking on the wall. She listens to the knocks, which seem to have a familiar, steady rhythm: it is Kelley knocking morse code to her, just like they used to do in the hotels they regularly found themselves separated in. 

“Do you want me to go?” Kelley knocks.    


Ashlyn doesn’t answer. 

“Knock twice so I know you’ve heard me.”

Ashlyn takes a deep breath and knocks twice.

“This isn’t working,” Kelley knocks. 

“I know,” Ashlyn knocks back. 

“I will always love you, Ash,” Kelley knocks, “but this timing just isn’t right.”

“I know,” Ashlyn knocks again.

“I’m thirty-one years old; I’m different now,” she knocks.

“I know,” Ashlyn knocks a third time. 

“You’re twenty three,” Kelley knocks.

“Twenty-two,” Ashlyn knocks back. 

“Twenty-two!”   


“I’m sorry,” Ashlyn knocks softly.

“It isn’t your fault, Ash. It’s just life.”

“But we’re dead.”   


Ashlyn can hear Kelley laugh in the other room. No knocks follow, and then she is standing in the doorway in front of her. 

“When you first died, I wanted to die, too. I didn’t want to be alive without you,” Kelley says. “You were my whole life. I had no memories that didn’t contain you somehow.”

Ashlyn bites her lip and nods, fiddling with her wedding band. 

“But I moved on. I stopped waiting for you. In truth, I didn’t believe I would ever see you again.”

“But you never remarried,” Ashlyn says.

“I had done that before. And to even consider doing it again, you were the standard against which all others had to be judged.” She laughs. “The funny thing is, I had actually met someone a couple of months before I died. It wasn’t serious or anything, not yet, but it had possibility.”   


“Really? I never saw that! I guess I just wasn’t watching closely.” Ashlyn looks away.

“On some level, Ash, I could always feel you watching me. I think I noticed when you stopped.”

Ashlyn doesn’t answer, only snuggling into her pillow tighter. Kelley gently sits next to her in bed before gently grabbing her hand and leaning into her. 

“It’s all right for you to be in love with someone else. You shouldn’t feel guilty,” Kelley says softly.

“At first, I think I liked her because she reminded me so much of you,” Ashlyn says quietly.    


“Or me ten years ago, maybe.” 

Ashlyn looks at Kelley and for the first time since she’d arrived on Elsewhere, she really sees her. She’s pretty, maybe even more so than when they were young. But she’s different. She’s older, more sharp and angled. Her eyes are changed, but she can’t quite figure out how. There is a new scar on her forehead, perhaps from a head-to-head collision that Ashlyn had managed to miss. “I don’t really know you anymore, do I?” Ashlyn says so softly it sounds like she might break. 

Kelley leans in and gently kisses Ashlyn on the forehead, and in that moment, Ashlyn wants to cry. 

“Some couples work out; some couples make it here,” Ashlyn says tearfully, “Why can’t we be those people?”   


“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Kelley says. “And in any case, I’m glad I got to see you again.” 

“But it seems unfair, doesn’t it? We were supposed to grow old together and all that.” 

“Well, that wasn’t going to happen anyway. Not here at least,” Kelley points out. “And I think we were luckier than most,” she says. “We had a great life together—maybe not the best ending, but a great life. And we even got a second chance. How many people can say that?”

“Is this because of that night on the porch?” Ashlyn asks, her hazel eyes gazing up to meet Kelley’s face.  

“Not at all,” Kelley assures her before bringing her hand up to kiss it softly. “But as you mention it, would you like to know what I saw out there?” She pauses. “I saw two beautiful young women in love. You know, we're all given one life to live. And in that life, you were mine. But now me and you have a death to live. It's a fresh start. So let's make it the best damn deaths anyone ever did live, okay love?"

Ashlyn closes her eyes and when she opens them again, Kelley is asleep on her shoulder. Ashlyn feels a strange ache in her wrist as she gently sets the sleeping girl down on her pillow before wrapping a blanket around her. Ashlyn examines her sleeve, which is more vivid than she can ever remember it being, even when it had first been applied. Kelley’s name grows brighter and bolder by the second. And then, in a moment, it is gone. Aside from a slight redness, the skin that once held Kelley’s name is bare. It is as if Kelley’s name had never been there at all.

Right before Ashlyn falls asleep next to Kelley, she vows to go see Ali first thing in the morning. 

—

Hope cannot sleep. She tosses and turns in her wooden cot. Finally, she gives up on sleeping and gets out of bed. 

Hope hitches a ride across town to Ali’s house. She knows Ali is living with her grandmother and brother. She decides that she must inform them about Ali’s decision, even if it means breaking Ali’s confidence. 

At 6:15 a.m., Hope rings Caty’s doorbell.

“Oh god, you look just like her,” Hope says quietly, slightly startled by the sheer resemblance between Ali and her grandmother. “Oh my god, and you too,” she says as she catches a glimpse of Kyle. “Sorry,” Hope says abruptly as she sees the confused looks on their faces. “I am Hope, a friend of Ali’s. I have to tell you something pretty urgent.”

“Wait, what about Ali?” Ashlyn asks from behind the three, walking up behind Hope from the driveway. “I need to talk to her, is she okay?”

“She’s in trouble, guys. Caty, can we take your car?” Hope says, stuttering over her words.

Caty takes a deep breath. “Oh god, what’s happened? What’s happened to Ali?” She gives up on trying to disguise the terror in her voice. “I want to know what’s happened to my granddaughter!” she yells. 

Hope sighs as Kyle grabs his grandmother’s hand. “She’s headed back to Earth as a sneaker, and I’ve—we’ve, got to stop her.” 

“Well fuck, it’s already dawn!” Kyle yells as his eyes grow wide. The four look up at the jaundiced sky, which grows brighter with every second. 

“My car’s faster, let’s go” Ashlyn says, running back down the driveway. The three follow her in and then they are off. 

—

On the morning of her Release, Ali wakes at four o’clock. All launches take place at sunrise when the tide exposes the River, and she arrives about fifteen minutes early.

A team of launch nurses prepares the babies to be Released into the River. Ali’s nurse is a nice woman named Betty.

“My,” Betty says when she sees Ali, “we don’t often get big girls like you.”

“I’m a Sneaker,” Ali replies. 

“Yeah, Joleen normally handles the Sneakers but she’s on vacation. Sneaker or not, you have to take off all your clothes, and then I’ll swaddle you up.”

“Can’t I at least leave my underwear?” Ali asks.

“Sorry, but everyone’s got to wear their birthday suit back to Earth,” Betty says. “I know it’s probably not the most comfortable thing at your age, but that’s how it works. Most of the babies don’t know the difference. Besides, no one’ll know you’re naked under the swaddling clothes anyway.” Betty hands Ali a paper gown. “You can wear this in the meantime.”

Naked but for the gown, Ali lies down on a table with wheels like a hospital gurney. The launch nurse begins to wrap Ali in white linen bandages. She starts with Ali’s feet, bandaging Ali’s legs together, and works her way up to Ali’s head. When she reaches the middle, she removes Ali’s paper gown and begins to bind Ali’s arms to her sides. 

“Why do you have to bind the arms?” Ali asks curiously. 

“Oh, it helps the current pull you to Earth if you’re more streamlined, and it also keeps the babies warm,” Betty says.

Betty leaves Ali’s face open, but the rest of Ali’s body is like a mummy. She feels terrible wrapped up this way, and she can barely breathe. 

Betty rolls Ali over to the edge of the beach. She lowers her into the clear blue water. Ali feels the cool liquid saturate her bandages. 

“What happens to the swaddling clothes when I get to Earth?”

“Don’t worry. The cloth will have mostly deteriorated by then, and the River washes away what’s left,” says Betty. “When the sun starts to rise over the horizon, you’ll be able to see the River. I’ll give you a push, and the current will carry you all the way to Earth. I am told the journey feels like a week, but you’ll probably lose track of time much before then.”

Ali sighs in acknowledgement. She can make out the beginnings of a reddish light just over the horizon. It will be soon. 

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Betty asks Ali as she tucks away a loose strand of Ali’s hair back into the cloth. 

Ali tries to nod and it practically causes her whole body to shake because of the tight cloth.

“What makes a person want to go back to Earth early?”

“What do you mean?” Ali replies.

“I mean, it’s all life, isn’t it? Why are you in such a rush to get back?” she asks gently, almost reminding Ali of the way Caty spoke to her.

At that moment, the sun appears in the sky. The ocean splits in two, and the River is revealed.

“Sunrise,” Betty sighs. “Time to go. Well, have a good trip!” Betty gives Ali a push down the river, and then she is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a few notes:  
> 1.) I'm so sorry I haven't updated anything, this week has been a lot (i.e. I came out to some people and I'm emotionally exhausted) and I just haven't gotten on here. Sorry!  
> 2.) I know people have been asking for updates of The Great Escape. I have a chapter written, but I just don't love it and I want to make it better before I post it. Also, bringing me to #3...  
> 3.) I'm not sure how comfortable I feel posting semi-realistic fics anymore in light of Ali's note found here: http://www.alikrieger.com/enough-is-enough/   
> If you want to leave some thoughts on that go for it, I'd love to hear them. I'm not sure how aware they are of the fic-world but if you take a step back and really think about it, it is a bit of an invasion of privacy, especially when going into the realistic fics that take their real life stories completely into account (i.e. The Great Escape among other fics on here)
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! :) x


	15. Blinking Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali's journey back to Earth is interrupted.

As she is pulled faster and faster toward Earth, Ali begins to think of Elsewhere and all of the people she’s met there. She thinks of how those people might feel when they discover she has taken her leave without even telling them. 

She thinks of Lauren.

She thinks of Caty.

She thinks of Kyle.

She thinks of Michael.

And she thinks of Ashlyn.

But mainly she thinks of herself. Continuing down the River will mean, for all practical purposes, the end of Ali Krieger. And when she looks at it that way, she suddenly wonders if she has made a colossal mistake.

And then she wonders if it’s too late to correct it. 

Because it wouldn’t be for Ashlyn or for any of them that she would return to Elsewhere. With or without Ashlyn, almost twenty years was a long time. Almost twenty years was a gift. Anything could happen in Elsewhere, the place where Ali’s life had supposedly ended.

_ If I interrupt this life, I will never know how my life was supposed to turn out, _ Ali thinks. A life is a good story, even a crazy, backward life like hers. To cling to her old forward life was pointless. She would never have her old forward life. This backward life was her forward life when she really thought about it. It isn’t her time, and her desire to know how the story will end is too strong. 

And besides, Ali thinks, what’s the rush?

In the water, the swaddling fabric is stiff like plaster. Ali rocks back and forth trying to rip it. The motion does not free her, but it does turn her 180 degrees until she is facing into the current. All around her, babies float by. 

The waves smack her exposed face. Salt stings her eyes. Water gets into her lungs. Ali feels her legs beginning to sink.

She leans her neck forward and tries to tear at the swaddling clothes with her teeth. After much effort, she succeeds in ripping the tiniest of holes, which allows her to rotate her shoulder over and over again. It hurts like hell, but she finally frees her left biceps, then her left forearm, then her hand. She reaches her hand above the surface of the water. 

She struggles to pull herself out of the water with her free hand, but it’s too late. Too much water has filled her lungs. 

She sinks. It’s a long way to the ocean floor. It gets darker and darker. Ali hits the bottom with a thud. A cloud of sand and other debris forms around her. And then she passes out. 

When Ali wakes the next morning, she cannot move and she wonders if she is dead. But then she realizes she can open her eyes and her heart is beating, albeit very slowly. It occurs to Ali that she might be trapped at the bottom of the ocean forever. Neither dead nor alive. A ghost.

Ali wonders if ghosts have the capability of swimming.

—

“It’s too late,” Hope says quietly to Ashlyn on the beach the next day. “She’s gone.”

“I just don’t believe Ali would do that,” Ashlyn replies coldly, her blonde waves covering her face in the violent wind. She pushes them aside. “It just doesn’t seem like her at all.”

Caty shakes her head too. “I can’t believe it either.” She sighs. “She was very depressed for a while when she first got here. I thought she was over it, but I guess she wasn’t after all.”

“I’m going after her,” Ashlyn says as she puts her long hair up in bun. “I work all day patrolling the water, I can look for her.”

“Ashlyn, honey,” Caty says gently. “She’s gone. The launch nurse confirmed it. There’s nothing we can do now.” 

On the other side of the group, Kyle sits in the sand, looking lifeless. This is now the second time that his baby sister has disappeared before his eyes. He thinks to himself that he would much rather not be sober now, just like the first time.

—

The next day, Hope finds herself once again on the pier with Kelley, the green-eyed girl that she found herself quickly gravitating towards. “Hope,” Kelley says gently after they sit in silence for a long amount of time, “what’s wrong? You look like you killed someone.”

Hope laughs. You can’t kill someone in Elsewhere. Everyone’s already dead. It’s kind of like how you don’t swerve in the road for an already dead animal—someone’s already killed it, so running over it a little more won’t do any harm.

In Elsewhere, you can, however, make someone disappear forever. Just like Hope felt she did with Ali. 

“Damn,” Kelley says, after Hope explains what happened. “My wife—well, ex-wife, but not really. I don’t know what she is.” Kelley furrows her brow and then laughs at the whole situation. “Anyway, one of her friends just went back a Sneaker too. She’s been out looking for her, but I don’t think I have the heart to tell her that she’s gone forever. I think she just needs to prove to herself that she’s not coming back. You know? It’s rough, seeing people go before their time.”

By this time, Hope is crying. Sobbing, actually.

“Hey, woah, I’m sorry,” Kelley says, scooting over closer to the younger woman. She wraps her arms around her tightly, and Hope cries onto her shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay, this isn’t your fault.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because maybe I’ve made someone disappear, too.”

—

Ashlyn Harris doesn’t take no for an answer. She had come back from four major injuries, made countless teams she wasn’t supposed to, and found a place in a world that she wasn’t made to succeed in. By all means, the world was on her side. 

This is why she found it so difficult to accept the fact that Ali Krieger was gone from Elsewhere, never to be seen again. 

She takes eighteen dives to the Well, desperately looking for a brunette, or even a baby with Ali’s strong cheeks—anything, really, to see her one last time. But she always comes up short. 

On her way to her nineteenth dive, she is caught by the Bureau. 

“I’m going to need your diving equipment,” the stalwart old man tells Ashlyn once she is plopped up on his boat. “And no OD’s for six weeks.” Ashlyn groans. She is completely and utterly desperate to right her wrongs. 

“I work for the Bureau,” she tells him, “isn’t there a little bit of leniency for me?”

The man rolls his eyes. “You were caught making an illegal dive around Christmas and you were shown leniency then, no more!” Once they reach the marina, he takes her fins, tank, and mask. Then he is gone. 

Later, Ashlyn finds herself at the OD deck. “Michael, let me in or I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

“Ashlyn, you know I can’t,” Michael says through the glass at the entrance. “Do you want my ass in trouble too?” Ashlyn bites her lip as tears threaten to fall from her eyes. 

“Please, Michael. I’m begging.” 

“What’s going on?” Michael moves out of sight behind the glass and then reappears, letting Ashlyn crash into him as she starts to cry. Michael realizes that the deck is empty and is extremely thankful for it. 

“Ali, she’s gone. She went back.”

“Holy shit,” Michael whispers, still in a tight embrace with Ashlyn.    


“And I fucked up everything with Kelley.”

For the first time in his life perhaps, Michael doesn’t know what to say. He had never seen Ashlyn so distraught. So Michael stays silent, opting to gently rock Ashlyn back and forth as his heart pounds in his chest.

—

“Should we check on her?” Kyle asks Caty in the kitchen back at the house.   


“Who?”

“Ashlyn.”

Caty sighs. “I think she’s trying to make peace. I think she  _ wants _ to be by herself.”

Kyle nods. “This is just crazy. Ali was doing so well. And now she’s gone. I got two months with her, and now she’s gone.”

Caty walks over and hugs Kyle. “I know. I know,” she says as he begins to cry. “Love does crazy things to a person.”

—

That night, Ali realizes that she will never be able to heal enough to swim back to the top. She will age backward just enough to keep alive and breathing, but unless someone finds her, she is for all practical purposes dead. Really dead, this time. 

And yet she isn’t dead either. Being dead would almost be preferable. She remembers a story Ashlyn once told her of a man who had drowned on the way to the Well. No one found him for thirty years and when they finally located him, he was a baby, ready to go back to Earth.

If no one knows you’re alive, no one you love, you may as well be dead, Ali thinks. 

Ali stares above her, for there is nothing else to do at the bottom of the ocean. 

On the second night sharks swim all around Ali, but seem uninterested. Ali thinks to tell Ashlyn. Maybe the fact that sharks are harmless in Elsewhere would persuade her to get back on a board.

But then, Ali realizes that Ashlyn is long gone from her world. That though many creatures live at the bottom of the ocean, in the land between Elsewhere and Earth, humans like Ashlyn are not one of them. 

—

On the eighth night, Ali watches the moon like she always does. She watches it move across the sky. She actually finds it somewhat interesting, the way the moon moves. It’s isn’t like the sun, so stagnant and predictable. Rather, it moves in almost a circular motion, and she notices that the side facing Earth doesn’t change either. Suddenly, the moon is gone from sight though. 

Ali furrows her brow. With the little energy she has in her, she moves a little, trying to regain sight of the moon. It reappears, but only for a second. She quickly becomes frustrated.

Summoning all of her strength, she stands up underwater. She peels away the swaddling clothes until both of her hands are free. And so she beats her arms. 

But she can’t swim without her feet.

And so she peels away more of the cloth until she is naked as the day she was born. 

And so she is naked.

But, at last, her arms and her legs are free.

And so she begins to swim, desperately seeking the light of the moon. It is peculiar, she thinks, how the light of the moon is blinking on and off. On and off. She had never seen that before. 

Now she glides through the water, strength slowly returning to her body. She can feel her heart beating, however slow it may be. 

Ali thinks as she feels the water all around her. She thinks about her life on Earth, about Brent and what he must be doing now. She thinks about her teammates, about how intense training must be at this time of year. She thinks about her parents, and how it must feel to have not one, but two children six feet under. 

And she thinks about Ashlyn. About her sweet smile and bright eyes. About the way she gets excited about the little things, dogs especially. And she thinks about the way Ashlyn kissed her that night in front of the porch. She replays it in her mind over and over.

Ali swims and swims and swims, always keeping the blinking moon in sight. She thinks that if she follows it enough, perhaps it will stop blinking so she can continue watching it. It grows larger, and larger until she sees nothing. 

Her head hurts. Perhaps she hit something, she thinks. Her eyes flash open and closed, the pounding in her head slowly taking over her entire being. She swallows water as she floats backwards, back towards the bottom where she came from. She is disappointed that all of her hard work to see the moon is now being destroyed.

She hears her name being called off in the distance. Maybe she is going back down the river. Maybe she is dying a second death. Whatever the case, she is becoming increasingly alarmed by distraught sounding voice screaming her name.  _ Maybe it’s the devil,  _ she thinks.  _ Maybe they accidently put me in Elsewhere and I actually belong in hell. _

Suddenly she feels cold air hitting her naked body. And blood dripping down her forehead.  She uses her last bit of strength to open her eyes. 

Above her are two familiar looking eyes. They are uniquely shaped, and a light greenish-brownish color if she sees them correctly. The pupils in them are completely dilated, and they are open wide in what looks like fear. Ali suddenly wonders if she should be in fear too. 

“ALI!” the figure screams once more. Underneath whatever is holding her up, Ali can feel the waves of the ocean rocking back and forth. Suddenly, the figure is pushing her along the waves, still screaming and panic-stricken. 

Ali briefly wonders if she is being kidnapped before she is on the shore and the figure is carrying her away. Ali looks back to see a surfboard near the water, and then she suddenly becomes coherent enough to look the figure in the face. 

Ashlyn. 

Ashlyn is running back to her truck with Ali in her arms. She grabs a towel and then puts it over the bed of the trunk before gently laying Ali down on it. She gets another towel and then wraps it around the shaking brunette. Ashlyn’s eyes are wild as she strokes Ali’s hair, wondering if it is really her. 

Ali coughs up water and groans in pain for what seems like hours to Ashlyn, but is only minutes in reality. Ashlyn has a tee-shirt wrapped around Ali’s head, and it is quickly becoming soaked with blood. She has to remind herself that injuries in water always look worse than they really are. Unless you’re missing an arm. Then you can freak, she thinks. Suddenly she realizes what Kelley must have felt back in Spain. How panicked she must of felt. How distraught she must have been. 

And right in this moment, Ashlyn feels her world has come full circle. 

“So you finally got on that damn board,” Ashlyn hears Ali whisper, breaking her out of her trance. Ali eyes are still closed, and she is still shaking underneath her towel, but she has a slight, knowing smirk on her face. 

Ashlyn looks down at the brunette. Her hair is messy and soaked, forming wild waves that frame her face. The cut on her forehead seems to have subsided. Ali looks much thinner than she should be, but Ashlyn figures that spending eight days underwater with no food can do that to a person. 

“Oh, and just so you know, the sharks don’t bite,” Ali says in a whisper, finally opening her bright brown eyes. 

Ashlyn laughs for the first time in over a week before gently leaning down to kiss Ali on her soft, water-soaked lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter. While I know that Ali probably wasn't talking about ao3, it still makes you think :/ 
> 
> I'll try to get another update of this fic as well as The Great Escape up this week!!! You guys are the best :) x


	16. A Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali and Ashlyn move forward with their life on Elsewhere.

Ali spends two weeks recuperating in the healing center down the road from Caty’s house. Ashlyn had drove her over almost immediately after discovering her in the water. After that sweet, sweet kiss and the feeling of Ali’s weight in her arms as she transferred her over to the passenger’s seat, Ashlyn felt like she could breathe again. The ride over was quiet, and a little bit scary for Ashlyn as she watched blood pour from Ali’s head and listened to deep coughs escape from her lungs. 

But above all, Ashlyn was thankful. So, so thankful.

After a morning of visitors, Ali felt warm with the feeling of being loved. Kyle and Hope and Caty and Michael and Lauren and Skylar and even Christie had come to welcome her back. Ashlyn never left her side, too afraid of her disappearing again. 

“Ashlyn, go home,” Ali says as she watches Ashlyn’s eyes open and close, fighting to force her to sleep. They had been there for almost 18 hours, and Ashlyn had still not slept the night before. “You’re tired, and you should probably go check on Kelley—”

And in the same breath, the door swings open, and two green eyes peer in from behind it. 

“Ali!” Kelley says, her feet quickly carrying her into the room. “I’m so glad to see you.” She says it so genuinely that Ali becomes confused. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” Ali says. “I’m worried about your wife though, she’s refusing to go home.”

Kelley smiles before pulling a seat up to the bed. In the few seconds that it takes Kelley to move across the room, Ashlyn is asleep in her own chair, allowing herself to rest with the knowledge that Kelley is watching over Ali. 

“Ashlyn was—um—Ashlyn was devastated, Ali. Absolutely devastated.” Ali looks over to find Ashlyn awake once again. Ashlyn bites her lip and bows her head, and Ali knows it’s true. “God, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Kelley says before gently wrapping her arms around Ali’s neck and kissing her on the cheek. “When you get better, we’ll go out sometime, just the two of us, okay?” Kelley whispers so her words are just barely audible and Ali nods her head. 

Kelley stays for a few minutes before quietly getting up. She runs her hand down Ashlyn’s hair and kisses the top of her head before turning around and disappearing behind the door.

Ali cautiously looks towards Ashlyn. “What was that all about?” Ashlyn looks to the ceiling as if it could provide her with a perfect answer before turning her eyes back to Ali’s. 

“We broke up.”

They sit in comfortable silence for hours before the night peacefully turns the room to darkness. 

—

A month later, and Ali finds herself at Ashlyn and Kelley’s house, helping decorate for Ashlyn’s twenty-first birthday party. They still live together, and for some reason it still seems perfectly normal. They had spent four years apart, so it did only seem natural that they get those four years back, even if it was as friends and not lovers. 

“I was so scared when you were gone,” Kelley says quietly as she hangs up a string of lights. Christmas, Ashlyn’s favorite holiday, is around the corner, so it was decided that the party is to be Christmas themed.

“Why?” Ali says, not looking up from the candy-cane decorations she is hammering into the ground. 

Kelley jumps off the ladder and taps Ali on the shoulder to break her trance. “Want to go on a walk?”

Ali nods and Kelley moves into the house to grab Dozer. While she is still slightly allergic, she couldn’t help but fall in love with his scrunchy little face. 

After about 10 minutes, of silence, Kelley speaks up. “I was scared because I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ashlyn so broken. We had just decided to break up, and then the next day you were gone.” Kelley pauses, searching for words before she begins to tear up a little. “God, I’m sorry,” she says with a little laugh as she wipes the tears from under her eyes. 

“No, you’re fine, you’re fine,” Ali insists as she wraps an arm around Kelley’s shoulder. Kelley takes several deep breaths of salt-water air before she continues.

“I think I was so scared because I know what it feels like to watch someone you love disappear before your eyes. I know how it feels to be alone. And I didn’t want that for Ash. I didn’t want her to have to feel it. I didn’t want her to feel what I felt.” And then Kelley loses it. Ali gently guides her and the dogs towards a bench just off the shore. Kelley cries into Ali’s shoulder, and all Ali can do is let her. 

Eventually, Kelley’s tears subside and they sit in silence, watching the waves roll in. Periodically, Ali checks her watch to make sure they are still running on time. Kelley laughs, and Ali turns her head to see what she finds so funny.

“What?” Ali asks gently, waiting to be clued in on whatever Kelley finds so hilarious. 

“Nothing,” Kelley says, trying to quiet herself down. 

“No seriously, what is it?” Ali asks, curiously smiling. 

Kelley laughs one final time. “Isn’t it kind of funny how I lost Ashlyn on a board in the middle of the water and she found you on a board in the middle of the water?”  
Ali stays silent, thinking that Kelley must be pretty upset to be thinking so deeply.  

“Come on, that’s not funny to you? Because that sounds like some Shakespearean shit to me.”

And then they are both laughing. Laughing until their stomachs hurt. Laughing at the absolute absurdity of living a life after death. It’s all funny to them.

“So, you’re not upset about me and Ashlyn?” Ali gently questions.    


Kelley shakes her head. “I love Ashlyn, but this wasn’t going to work out, Ali. I want the best for you guys, and I think the best for both of you is being with each other.”   


“But what about you?”

Kelley smiles slightly. “I’m actually seeing someone, don’t worry about me. Go get your girl.” And then she smiles a genuine smile before grabbing Ali by the hand to lead her back to the house where they will spend the night laughing and making Ashlyn feel so loved, so incredibly loved.

—

Christmas morning, Ashlyn shows up to Caty’s house at 9 after she and Kelley exchange gifts and have breakfast together. “I think this is the best present I could have imagined,” Kelley had said as she sipped her coffee.

“What?” Ashlyn had asked in reply. 

“Spending another, unexpected Christmas morning with you.” Ashlyn had smiled and gathered Kelley in her arms. 

“I know, I know.”

At the Krieger/Christopher household, Ashlyn feels at home. Kelley had gone to spend the day with Hope, the blonde-haired girl who Ashlyn had briefly met the day Ali disappeared. Ashlyn is happy for them, she really is, but it does seem a bit strange spending Christmas away from Kelley when she is so close to her. 

But Ali is home now. Ali is her safety. Ali is her life, her death, and everything in-between.

Ali is her Elsewhere.

After a day of presents and stories and intense card games (in which Kyle insists he isn’t hiding cards, but fails after a pile falls from his lap underneath the table), Ali and Ashlyn find themselves sitting on the beach in the same exact spot they had met nearly a year earlier. Ashlyn is leaned back on Ali’s torso, and Ali mindlessly plays with her hair as the waves crash in. 

“I got you a present,” Ali says quietly under the thunderous roar of a large wave crashing. 

Ashlyn tilts her head up slightly to meet Ali’s eyes. “Ali,” she says reverently, “you didn’t need to do that.”

But Ali only shakes her head and leans back to retrieve the small rectangular box from her coat pocket. Ashlyn gets up and sits so she’s facing Ali. 

“It’s not really anything big,” Ali says. “But it just reminded me of you.”

Ashlyn smiles sweetly and takes the box from Ali. She gingerly opens it, and inside is a beautiful angel-wing pendant on a long, silver chain. 

“Ali,” Ashlyn says quietly before kissing her on the forehead, “it’s beautiful. Thank you.” 

Ali helps her string the necklace around her neck, and Ashlyn gives her a satisfied smile when she feels the small weight of the pendant on her chest. “I got you something too,” Ashlyn says. Ali’s eyes quickly flirt up. “It’s not as beautiful as this, and it’s not on my ass, but I thought you might like it.”

Ashlyn pushes up her sleeve to reveal the letters spelling out “Alexandra” in beautiful, looping cursive on her wrist. Right where Kelley’s name used to sit. “It’s only going to last for about two weeks, but like you said, ‘it’s the gesture’.” 

Ali smiles and pulls Ashlyn in for a long, tender kiss. Suddenly, she gets the overwhelming feeling that it doesn’t quite matter that she’s dead. She’s guaranteed twenty years with this beautiful being that is Ashlyn. Twenty years of sun kissed cheeks and wavy blonde hair and big, toothy smiles. On Earth, you wouldn’t get that guarantee. You might get fifty years of love. You might get one. But here, you know exactly what you’re in for. 

And with that thought, Ali starts crying. Ashlyn pulls back from the kiss and wipes Ali’s tears. “Are you okay, Al?” 

Ali crinkles her eyes and smiles. She is so, so okay. 

Ashlyn smiles back, and not before long they are both laughing as Ashlyn carries Ali back to the truck. She places her down in the back seat of the empty lot, and pushes her back into the leather seat as she reaches up to kiss her. They giggle as the angel wing pendant manages to hit Ali in the face as Ashlyn tugs Ali’s shirt off. The pendant hangs between their bodies as they press love to each other’s skin with their lips over, and over, and over until every inch of their body has been touched. Until every nerve has been satisfied.

They giggle again in the morning when Ashlyn wakes Ali up, tracing an imprint of the wing along Ali’s cheek. They are naked but warm in Ali’s bed, the mark left over from Ali resting her head on Ashlyn’s chest in a peaceful sleep on the first of many Christmas nights spent together. 

—

In January, Ali and Ashlyn go on their first proper date together. Ali picks Ashlyn up at six, and hands her a huge bouquet of sunflowers—Ashlyn’s favorite. Ashlyn cuts them and puts them in a vase before heading out the door for dinner. 

They go to a small restaurant, and sit in the back corner. Older couples look at them with pity—they only have a few years left together, they all think. But Ali and Ashlyn don’t care. They are far too lost in each other’s features and laughs and smiles to see the sad stares surrounding them.

—

In February, Ali and Ashlyn’s team lose in the semi-finals to Christie’s team, which has now picked up Kelley as well. Kelley is an amazing player, Ali quickly realizes. She is fast and quick thinking, and an incredibly offensively focused defender. 

“You know, once upon a time I helped her nail penalties too,” Ashlyn tells Ali with a nudge as they watch Kelley receive MVP honors in the final. Ali scoffs. “What?” Ashlyn says incredulously. “I am a great coach.” 

Kelley runs to Hope first. It is the first time Ali has seen Hope anywhere but the pier, and it makes her heart happy to see her look so lovingly at Kelley. Before Ali has too long to think about it though, the green-eyed girl is hurling herself in Ashlyn’s arms. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Ashlyn says, her voice muffled in Kelley’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen you play like that ever, you’ve gotten even better since I left.”

Kelley laughs. “I had a lot of spare time on my hands after you died. Your death turned out to be pretty good for my career.” Ashlyn sarcastically scoffs at the comment before pulling Kelley in again. 

“But really, I’m so proud Kell. You’re incredible.”

—

In March, Ali becomes homesick. Ashlyn knocks on Caty’s door, ready to pick Ali up for dinner. Kyle answers, and his eyes are sad. “She’s in her room, she won’t talk to me,” he says, opening up the door for Ashlyn. “See what you can do.”

Ashlyn quietly opens to door and hears the muffled sounds of Ali crying. “Go away Ky,” she hears whispered from the bed in between sobs. But Ashlyn wordlessly climbs in the bed behind Ali, and wraps herself around her. Ali only cries harder when she realizes Ashlyn is there with her. 

Ashlyn strokes her hair and rubs circles into her back until her sobs have simply become uneven breaths. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Ali’s breath hitches one more time before she answers. “I miss home. I miss my team. I miss my parents. I miss the mountains, and my house, and planes. I just miss everything. I want to go home.”

Ashlyn kisses the back of Ali’s neck before settling in the crook of her shoulder. “You know that saying home is where the heart is?”

“Yeah, I don’t get it.”   


Ashlyn laughs. “Well me neither, but I do know that you have a heart in there,” she says, placing her hand on Ali’s chest, “and it’s here, so I guess that would make this home.” Ali laughs at Ashlyn’s childlike innocence before kissing her with deep, deep love and admiration. 

—

In April, Ali turns nineteen. A teenager again. Ashlyn throws a party, and hangs an obnoxious, sparkly “You’re a Teenager!” banner across the entrance, a banner that would obviously be used for a 13th birthday party on Earth. All around Ali are teammates, and friends, and friends of friends, and family of friends. Kyle sarcastically remarks to Ali that he’d never thought he’d have to deal with a teenage sister again before pecking her on the forehead and handing her  a small box that contains a watch nearly identical to the one she used to wear on Earth. She shakes her head at the thoughtfulness before quietly slipping it on her left wrist, the familiar feeling bringing a wave of comfort over her. 

Ali sips her drink of coke and rum from a red, plastic cup and Ashlyn snakes her arm around Ali’s waist. Ali stares at Ashlyn’s wrist—the tattoo of her name is long-gone, but just the thought of it once being there makes her feel warm and safe inside. “Are you having fun?” Ashlyn asks, whispering in Ali’s ear as the sound of conversation and music fill the room.    


Ali nods her head. “I think being alone with you on the beach right now would be even more fun though.”

Ashlyn immediately slips her arm from Ali’s waist and reaches for her hand, and gently pulls her out of the crowded room where no one but Kyle notices. Kyle knowingly smirks as he makes eye contact with Ali as she quietly exits the house, hand in hand with Ashlyn. 

At the beach, they change into the wetsuits that have now found a home in Ashlyn’s truck, constantly waiting to be used by the two girls on their late night adventures. Ashlyn pulls the two boards out, and they wade into the water, taking a second to appreciate the serene sunset they find themselves in front of. It is good for both of them, Ali thinks, because she wouldn’t know how to get up on the board without Ashlyn there with her, and Ashlyn would be too scared to get out in the water without her there. 

Suddenly, Ali’s mind wanders. “Why were you out on the water alone the night you found me?” They haven’t ever discussed that night in too much detail, both too afraid of thinking about the potential repercussions they could have faced. 

Ashlyn’s board undulates in the waves as she sighs, trying to think of what pulled her out into the water that night. “I don’t know,” she finally replies. “I really don’t know. I had been crying, and something just gravitated me out there.” 

They sit in silence before Ashlyn speaks up again. “As long as you’re going to ask that, can I ask why you left the river on the way to Earth?”

Ali bites her lip. “Like you said, something just gravitated me out of there.”

—

In May, Kelley moves out of Ashlyn’s house. She and Hope had found a small, two room house right on the shore, and decided that they were moving in the next week. 

Ali comes over to Ashlyn’s to help pack and clean, and she can’t help but notice how defeated Ashlyn looks. Ashlyn hadn’t been living alone for over a year now, and though she won’t admit it, Ali knows that Ashlyn must be sad to see Kelley go. 

“Ashlyn,” she says as they watch Kelley go off with Hope from the porch, “do you want to stay with us for a few nights? I know this is a big adjustment and—”   


“I’m fine,” Ashlyn says coldly, cutting her off.    


“Okay,” Ali whispers into the night.

—

In June, Kyle is officially one-year sober. “How does it feel?” Ashlyn asks at the dinner they have to celebrate. 

Kyle grins. “It feels great. I finally feel like myself again.”

“I totally know what you mean,” Ashlyn says before lifting another piece of pasta to her mouth. 

Later, in Ashlyn’s bed, Ali asks her what she meant. 

“What did I mean when?” Ashlyn asks in return.

“When you said you know what Kyle feels, what did you mean?” 

Ashlyn turns over to face Ali, and looks at her seriously. “When I was a kid, I was into a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have been. A lot of stuff that a kid shouldn’t even know about.” Ali nods, encouraging her to go on. “I could have easily been Kyle, that could have been me.” Ali lets out a deep breath before Ashlyn continues. “But when I joined the national team, I was basically forced to become sober. I had to drop everything. They’re strict about the drug and alcohol policy, and it was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Ali sits in silence, rubbing small, gentle circles into Ashlyn’s back. “So what does it feel like?” Ali asks.

“What?”

“Becoming sober.”

Ashlyn pauses, searching for an answer. “It feels like total freedom.”

—

In July, Ashlyn tears her ACL. Ali, Ashlyn, and the boys are out playing 5 v 5 pickup when a loud shooting sound erupts in the middle of the pitch. Suddenly Ashlyn is on the ground screaming and pounding her fist into the grass, and Skylar is moving quickly to get his car as close the pitch as possible. Ashlyn is gently sat in the back seat, and Skylar drives her and Ali quickly to the healing center. 

Even though one is always guaranteed to heal in Elsewhere, the process of a healing ACL tear is long and painful, Ali quickly realizes. There is not much they can do for Ashlyn but give her a high-dosage morphine drip and some ice. Ali holds Ashlyn as she cries herself to sleep for two weeks, the pain completely unbearable. Finally, one day, Ali is awakened with a soft kiss on the lips. “Hi baby,” Ashlyn says, completely coherent for the first time since she went down on the pitch. “I think it finally reconnected last night.” Ashlyn smiles a big, giant smile and Ali quickly presses her lips to Ashlyn’s in a sign of celebration and relief. 

—

In August, Ali notices a ring on Kelley’s finger but doesn’t say anything to Ashlyn. It is simple, the ring, just a gold band with a small diamond. 

Ali thinks about how it would feel to have a ring on her own finger.

—

In September, Ashlyn’s grandmother arrives. Ashlyn cries into Ali’s shoulder as she thinks about her grandmother dying. Ali had heard it on the broadcast, and gently had to tell Ashlyn herself. It is so odd, being on the other side of death’s door when one gets the news of a loved one dying. On one hand, you want to be happy and joyful at the thought of reuniting with them. And on the other, the thought of their death and the effects it has for everyone remaining on Earth tears you to pieces. 

The morning after the broadcast, Ali takes Ashlyn to the pier to meet her grandmother. Ashlyn’s grandmother, Ellie, has the same shaped face as Ashlyn and the same hazel eyes. She arrives in the middle of the departures, and her face becomes overjoyed at the sight of her granddaughter. 

“Oh, my Ashlyn,” she says, tears pouring from her eyes. They embrace, and Ali stands to the side, wiping her own tears as she watches the joyful reunion. 

“Hi Grandma,” Ashlyn whispers as she pulls away from the grey-haired woman. She smiles as she uses the back of her hands to wipe away the tears that have found their way to her cheeks. 

That night, Ellie insists on making mac-and-cheese, and Ali is surprised when it tastes even better than Ashlyn’s. “So where’s Kelley?” Ellie asks as she sits down at the table. “Had I realized that you would  _ literally _ be here with her I would have taken her death just a little bit better,” Ellie says with a sly smile.    


Ashlyn bites her lip. “Grandma,” she says, “I actually broke up with Kelley. We’re still really great friends, but I’m with Ali now.” Ellie’s eyes immediately turn to Ali, and Ali blushes. 

“Well Ashlyn, you do have a way of picking up all the kind, beautiful girls, don’t you now?” Ellie says before winking at Ali and taking another bite of the pasta.

—

In October, Ali and Ashlyn both receive a beautiful wedding invitation, donned with gold and navy swirls and “Hope and Kelley” written in gorgeous, looping script. 

“Do I go?” Ashlyn asks, holding the card stock in her hand as she sits on the couch. 

Ali plops down next to Ashlyn, handing her a beer as she opens her own. 

“Of course you go, you’re her best friend Ash.”

Ashlyn bites her lip and then nods, as if she’s made a decision.

They both down the beers after clinking them together and cuddle into each other, falling asleep in each other’s arms on the couch.

—

In November, Caty holds a Thanksgiving dinner for all of Ali and Kyle’s friends. Teammates, and friends from group therapy, and acquaintances all fill the house with joyful noise. Caty tells Ali that it is the first large thanksgiving she’s had since the year she died, and Ali gives her a big hug in return. 

After dinner, in the light of the moon after most everyone has left, Ali and Ashlyn sit across from Hope and Kelley. “Dinner was delicious,” Kelley says, leaning into Hope. 

“We actually wanted to ask you guys something.”   


Ali quirks an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Um, Ashlyn, I wanted to ask you if you’d be my maid of honor? Please?”

“And Ali, would you be mine?” Hope says, biting her lip.

Ashlyn and Ali turn to each other and smile. “Of course,” they say in unison. 

—

In December, on New Years Eve, Ali and Ashlyn go to a wedding. Before the bride's process in, there is a minute where they face each other on the makeshift altar on the beach. The air is warm and salty, and Ali’s hair is in loose waves. She wears a light-blue and white dress. She marvels at Ashlyn, whose long, nearly white hair falls beyond her shoulders onto a white oxford that is neatly tucked into navy dress-pants. If Ali looks carefully, she can just barely see the angel wing poke out from beneath the thin shirt. They smirk at each other just before the small group of people sat before the altar stand up to let the brides process in. 

Hope and Kelley look beautiful, and so naturally fit into one another.  Hope’s long blonde hair is neatly pulled back, and Kelley’s falls in long, spiraling waves. At the conclusion of the ceremony, they run down the sand and for a second, Ashlyn feels a bit of deja-vu, and a little sad at the fact that she isn’t the one running off with Kelley.

But then she feels a grab at her hand, and looks over to see the most stunning girl grinning at her.

Ali. 

The night is spent on a big outdoor patio illuminated with fairy-lights. An acoustic band plays in the background, and Ali rests her head on Ashlyn’s chest as they slow-dance to the music. 

Ali feels so comforted as she listens to Ashlyn’s strong, steady heartbeat and the slight feeling of the angel-wing necklace beneath her ear. The music sways and rises and falls, and Ali wishes she could stay in this moment forever.

Ashlyn kisses the top of Ali’s head and runs her thumb over Ali’s palm. “You know, this could be us one day,” she says, whispering into Ali’s ear. 

Ali laughs. They are 19 and 20 years old, way too young to get married she thinks. And what is the point of getting married if they are only going to be kids again in a few years anyway? Hope and Kelley have a good 8 years of adulthood together left, while they have maybe 4 if they’re lucky. There is absolutely no point, she thinks. “This could be us if we were older, babe,” Ali says with a laugh. Ashlyn tries her best to smile back, to keep her feet moving above the dancefloor. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she whispers.    


So while Ali laughs, Ashlyn’s heart silently breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the real book, the last chapter where Ash finds Ali was basically the beginning of the end and they fast forward to the point where the character Ali is based on is 9, and the two main characters don't end up together, so I'm gonna be completely on my own for the next few chapters lol.
> 
> I'm so sorry updates haven't been frequent. My life is a bit of a mess right now... I promise I'll get a few chapters out in the next few weeks!
> 
> Comments are appreciated, let me know what you think!


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